


The Autobot Files

by TyChou



Series: Small Problems [3]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Autobots doing Autobot stuff, Character Development, Character studies, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2020-07-23 06:57:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 134,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20004187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyChou/pseuds/TyChou
Summary: Takes place directly after Ghost in the Machine.  A series of vignettes about various Autobots and their different views on life, the universe and everything.





	1. Harm

**The Autobot Files**

**By: Ty-Chou aka Ghost of the Dawn**

**File #001 - Harm**

A large, heavy crate came up the hallway, carried by an Autobot roughly its size. He stumbled for a bit as he tried to maneuver around and then kicked at the closed repair bay doors.

"Hey Ratchet," Brawn called. "I got your package. Open up!"

"Oh, I got it!" called a feminine voice from inside and the door slid open.

"Where do you want this?" Brawn then asked.

Ratchet's voice came from somewhere in the back. "Crystal, see if you can find some space for that."

Brawn could barely make out her figure over the crate he carried as Crystal's small form looked around the cluttered bay. "Oh um... okay."

He could hear her skirting around, moving things and pushing others out of the way. "Put it down over here."

Brawn did his best to peek over to see where he was going and slowly made his way to the open space made for him. He could see Crystal's dubious expression as he moved past her.

"Do you... need some help?" she asked.

"Nah, better not get in the way, Princess," Brawn replied. "It's not heavy for me, it's just big. But it just might squash you."

Once at his destination, Brawn set down the massive cargo. He made it look easy, but with the heavy thunk it made, it indeed sounded extremely heavy.

"Is that my package?" Ratchet asked as he came up. He had a certain twinkle in his optics that was similar to a kid on Christmas morning.

"Straight from Cybertron courtesy of Cosmos," Brawn said as he patted it. "Just for you, Doc." He rotated his shoulder joints. "Carried it all the way from outside."

Ratchet looked eager to rummage around inside, but glanced back at Brawn as he began to pry it open. "How are your joints holding up?"

"They've still got another good battle in them, no worries, Doc."

Satisfied, Ratchet turned his full attention to his package as he lifted the lid.

Right then, Wheeljack poked his head in. "Ooh! Is that the new shipment of parts from Cybertron?"

Ratchet slammed the lid down protectively. "Repair bay gets first call on them, you know that."

Wheeljack sidled up to him, his fingers twitching in anticipation of touching what was inside. "I just want to see what you got is all..."

Ratchet didn't look convinced and continued to keep it closed while Wheeljack fingered the lid. "You always say that and then sneak yourself whatever you want."

"I just need one power converter, that's it," Wheeljack finally admitted. "It doesn't even have to be the best one. And maybe a coolant filter and some extra wiring and--"

Ratchet countered his list and the two broke into an argument over who deserved what and who got the best of the last shipment. Crystal watched them silently, unsure of what to do. She glanced over at Brawn across the crate. He was a bit different than the other Autobots she had seen. Smaller, more bulky and compact. He smiled at her, friendly, with an "You better get used to it, this happens a lot" type expression.

"I'm going to do a full inventory of the package and THEN we'll see what I can afford to let you have," Ratchet said with finality.

"Fine," Wheeljack relented with a sound in his voice akin to a sigh. "But I better not just end up with scrap."

As Ratchet was finally able to inspect the contents, Wheeljack turned to Crystal. "How are you feeling? Still got that thing?"

He poked her in the back and Crystal instantly flinched away from the touch.

"Yup, still do,” Wheeljack confirmed. “Think we should take a look at it, Ratchet? It's been two days."

"Give it a bit more time," Ratchet responded, his head in the open crate. "Going from organic skin to metal skin is a rough transition in itself. It takes a while to get used to."

Wheeljack placed his hand flat on her back and Crystal shrank away from it as if he had poured ice water down her back.

"Stop it," she whined.

"What does it feel like?" Wheeljack asked, intrigued.

"Like needles and sandpaper. Like all my skin has been rubbed raw."

"And it feels like that everywhere?"

He reached out to touch her arm, but Brawn grabbed him first.

"She said she doesn't like how it feels. Stop harassing her."

Wheeljack finally found the grace to look guilty. "Sorry, I was just curious."

"You always have to push it a little too far," Brawn accused then folded his arms. "Well, if there's nothing else for me to do here, Doc, I'm gonna get back to work."

Ratchet waved him off, mumbling something as he was fully occupied with his new toys.

Brawn turned his attention to Crystal. "The name's Brawn. If this one," he threw a thumb at Wheeljack, “gives you any more trouble, you call me, okay?"

Crystal's face lighted a bit. "Okay.”

Brawn gave one more warning look to Wheeljack and then marched out of the room and down the hall.

Wheeljack glanced at Crystal who seemed to be in a better mood now that he was on Brawn's list.

There was a heavy snap as the crate lid fell on top of Ratchet while he was half inside the container. Crystal gasped and hurried to help him. When Ratchet was free, he kicked Wheeljack out of his repair bay so he could conduct inventory in peace.

Crystal stayed with him, even though Ratchet had made it clear several times that she was free to leave the med bay after her daily diagnostics check and could go anywhere in the base she wanted. But she never wanted to go anywhere. Even though the medical officer caught her peering down the hall several times, she didn't want to leave the room. If he got after her too much, she would retreat to her small cubbyhole in the back corner out of sight and remain there silently for the next few hours. Ratchet surmised her desire to not be touched was part of the reason she didn't want to go out, but he wasn't sure if it was the entire reason.

After going through that routine for two days in a row, Ratchet decided he would not say anything today and see where that got him. He was getting a bit put out by the fact that the entire base had wordlessly established him as this girl's babysitter until she was ready to meet the world. But there was nothing that could be done. He may have been a bit annoyed to constantly be sharing his once coveted solitude, but he didn't have it in his spark to boot her out. Yet. He would wait to see how a few more days of this would make him feel.

He looked up when he noticed Crystal was watching him intently as he unpacked the crate.

"Do you... want to help?"

She brightened up instantly. "I would love to! What can I do?"

He gave her a tight smile as he straightened up. "Handle each item carefully and place them on the table so I can inventory everything."

Crystal nodded, seeming delighted to have something to do. Ratchet thought it might be good to continue giving her jobs after this. If she wasn't going to leave the med bay, at least he could get some work out of her.

The crate was almost as tall as her chest. Crystal had to really reach to grab the different pieces of equipment until it started getting lower. Then she gingerly climbed into the box and began handing Ratchet the pieces on the bottom. He paused in the midst of moving parts as a red light flashed on his shoulder.

"What's that?" Crystal wondered.

Ratchet was still, as if listening to the sound of an invisible voice. "Prime's sending out a unit. Decepticons are about."

Her optics grew wider. "What are they doing?"

Ratchet went back to work. "Not sure. Stealing energy is what they're usually up to. I hear they're getting pretty low. That makes these missions more dangerous because the Decepticons are getting desperate."

Crystal tipped her head at him as she handed him the next item. "What do they need it for?"

"They need it to live. We all do, even you. We need power to keep our bodies running and our weapons charged. Not to mention our base."

"Where do the Autobots get theirs?"

"Some, from Earth's government as donations, but a majority of it we harvest from your natural resources. We have solar and hydro power conductors as well as the thermal energy we gather from this volcano. We don't have an over surplus. But it's enough to keep us powered comfortably. When the Decepticons go after it, they usually end up destroying more energy than they steal."

"Sounds quite counterproductive of them," Crystal commented.

"And now they're paying the price," Ratchet agreed.

The crate was empty and he offered her a hand to help her out. Then he looked around his repair bay.

"Well, if a confrontation is coming up, I'm sure we'll have a few damaged bots coming in eventually. Would you mind cleaning up while I take inventory?"

Crystal nodded and went right to work. Ratchet was right, she was downright pleased to have something to do.

She was more than happy to do anything he asked of her. This also gave him the free time to look over his lovely new collection of parts. Every once in a while Ratchet would look up from his inventory to check on her. Crystal appeared to be moving slower every time he gazed in her direction. It made Ratchet wonder if she was doing it deliberately. Having something to do gave her mind something to think about instead of dwelling on her current situation. Maybe she was trying to stretch it out so she could keep busy. Ratchet could allow that. She needed time to adjust to her new body and, if she was being active, it was good therapy for her, so he let her be.

"Ratchet?" Crystal's voice asked softly.

"Yeah," he responded automatically without looking up.

"Um, I still don't feel very well. Is there maybe...?"

Ratchet looked up at her. "The same stuff as before?"

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

He swung his chair around, eager to get this conversation over with so he could finish his inventory.

"We ran your diagnostics test this morning and everything looked normal. Give it one more day and if it's still bothering you, we'll see what we can do tomorrow, okay?"

“...Okay.”

"Hey, hey! Look who's back!" announced a rowdy voice accompanied with a smiling face.

"Jazz!" Crystal exclaimed as she hurried over to him.

"Hey babe!" Jazz grinned as he came into the room. "Sorry I've been away these past two days. Had to go on a mission. Came back as soon as I could."

She squeaked as he swept her up into a tight hug without warning. Then he put her down when he felt something was off. Her body was trembling in his arms.

"Crys, you okay? You're shakin'."

There was a tremor in her voice as she pressed her face into his side. "I just really missed you."

"Aww..." Jazz pulled her closer. "I'll always be back for ya. Don't worry your little head about it, okay?"

He pulled back and despite the fact that she was still shaking a bit, she smiled at him. "I know."

"So," Jazz then said as he grabbed her hand. "I heard you haven't really been out of the med bay at all. Do ya... wanna go for a walk with me or something? I figured maybe if you had someone to go with..."

Crystal moved back, shaking her head and pulling her hand out of his.

"Not ready, huh? Well then," Jazz hopped onto one of the tables and patted the place next to him as an invitation to sit.

Crystal climbed up to join him. Ratchet could hear the conversation, but kept his optics on his work.

"So uh... you really knocked ol Prowl on his can two days ago."

Crystal frowned. "He deserved it."

Jazz tried to give an understanding smile. "Did he really?"

"Yes," was the final answer.

Jazz looked down at his feet as he swung them back and forth. "You know, he took that really hard. He pretty much just took off out of the base and never came back."

"He disappeared?" Crystal asked, genuine worry in her voice.

"Well, not so much disappeared. He responds to his radio if you call him, but he insists he's working on something and he's not coming back until he's done." Jazz looked up at her. "I think he's trying to give you some time. Are you still mad at him?"

"I have to be," she responded in a small voice, looking down in her lap.

Jazz folded his arms. "And why exactly do you think you have to?"

"Because... if I'm not mad at him then everyone else will be. And I'm the only one who should be mad at him."

It took a moment for Jazz to figure that out. Had she picked up on that much? That there were those who were angry with Prowl's decision and those who may want retribution for her if she didn't claim it herself. Was she protecting him from everyone else's negative feelings by punching him out in the control room?

Then Jazz frowned as he noticed something. "Crys... you okay? You don't seem..."

He couldn't find the words to describe it. He just had a feeling when he saw her sitting there, hunched and looking very uncomfortable, that something was wrong.

She looked up at his face, almost a desperation in her optics, as if she had been waiting for someone to ask her that. As she opened her mouth, an alarm sounded.

Ratchet got up with a sigh. "Looks like our boys are back from battle already and my med bay's gonna be full. Jazz, I need to ask you to leave so you'll be out of the way. If you want to take..."

Crystal was already backing up toward her corner of the med bay. She was still adamant about not leaving.

Jazz just smiled. "I'll come back later when it's less busy."

He managed to slip out just as the injured Autobots were brought in. Ratchet was instantly at the door, ordering different patients to different tables and lining them up according to the severity of their injuries. Luckily, while there were several patients, no one had any serious wounds.

 _'But it's still going to take me all night to finish with these,'_ Ratchet thought with a frown. _'Especially with Wheeljack out for the count as well.'_

He noticed the inventor, who had gone with the unit, had sat himself on a table and was attempting to repair his own mangled hand. He certainly would be no help until it was repaired. Ratchet was on his own for now.

"So, how'd it go?" Ratchet asked Ironhide. The red Autobot had taken a direct shot to the knee joint, but insisted on limping in under his own power. Ratchet knew if he didn't cover that wound soon, Ironhide would get bored and go limping around the base, making it worse.

"How'd ya think it went?" Ironhide grinned. "We clobbered them good and they ran off again."

"But not without getting in a few good shots, I see," Ratchet frowned. "I think their aim is improving."

Ironhide waved him off. "Lucky shot," he insisted.

"Don't get too cocky, Ironhide," Optimus Prime counseled as he sat next to him on the table. There was a good sized hole in his shoulder compliments of Megatron's cannon. Exposed wires sparked their dislike for being blasted. "The more we starve their energy supply, the more desperate they become. I worry one of these days Megatron is going to do something very drastic and if we're not careful, we'll get sucked up in it."

"Yeah, yeah," Ironhide mumbled.

Optimus poked at his exposed wires.

"Don't pick at it," Ratchet warned.

Their leader slumped.

As Ratchet tended to Ironhide's leg, the red Autobot leaned over and talked in a low voice. "How's the kid doing? She still hanging around or what?"

"She's in the back somewhere. She just hides when I'm working," Ratchet grumbled. "I can't get her to leave. I'm not sure if I should give her more time or what? I don't know what kind of behavior to expect for something like this."

"Meh, the kid was a bit off to begin with if you ask me," Ironhide shrugged. "But I don't blame her for feeling outnumbered around this place."

"Give her more time," Optimus said. "If there's no change after things slow down around here, we'll see what we can do."

"Right," Ratchet nodded as he pulled out his welder. "I've got a med bay full of injured Autobots. I'll worry about those first."

Several hours later, he was still fixing minor injuries. None of them needed immediate attention, but there were a lot of them and a few required some intricate, time-consuming repair work. Of course, not every Autobot wanted to stay in the med bay for hours on end waiting their turn, so Ratchet had to keep leaving the bay to hunt down the next patient, which took even more time.

It was the next morning when Ratchet stood up after leaning over Hound's open chest cavity for almost an hour and straightened his back.

"There, good as new. There shouldn't be anything rattling around in there anymore. I wish you would quit off-roading. I'm sick of cleaning out all the dirt and nature before I'm able to repair anything."

Hound shrugged as he sat up. "Can't help it, it's in my alt mode. Thanks, Ratchet."

The medical officer tiredly waved him off, knowing full well his requests were never heeded.

Optimus Prime entered as Hound left. He gave Ratchet a moment to stretch out his aching joints before speaking.

"Everyone's been tended to?"

"Until next time," Ratchet muttered. "Those Decepticons better give me a few days' rest or I'll slag them all myself."

"Agreed," Optimus nodded. "I worry we're getting more careless with our confidence. We come back with more injuries than they do almost every time. But the reason I'm here is because of what you said earlier." He shifted as if it was something he would rather not think about. "I would like to see how Crystal is doing and be present during her diagnostics if you haven't done them already."

"No I haven't been able to do anything but repairs." Ratchet glanced towards the back of the med bay. "She's overdue, too. It's been over twenty-four hours. I'll get her."

He waded through the different parts and equipment scattered around to get to the back corner. Crystal's body was found laying on her cot and Ratchet immediately thought she didn't look right at all. She was curled up facing the wall, muscle cables clenched tight and her body trembling.

Millions of years of medical training were not required to see that something was definitely wrong. Mentally going through all her data in his head, Ratchet reached out to her as he quietly said her name. His touch wrenched a cry of pure anguish from her and Ratchet instantly pulled away.

“Crystal, what’s wrong?” he demanded, looking her over.

“It... hurts... everywhere.” Crystal’s voice came out in strangled gasps. “My skin... like fire..”

Ratchet looked like he was going to attempt to pick her up and then thought against it.

“Crystal, I need to touch you,” he said.

“No!” she managed to scream. “Don’t! It hurts!”

Ratchet was frozen for a minute, but then pressed his mouth into a firm line. As quick as he could, he grabbed her shoulder and forced her on her back. Crystal couldn’t hold back the scream of pain and struggled as he pulled her chest cavity open and turned off all her systems. Her body slowly stopped thrashing as the light in her optics faded and she fell offline.

Ratchet sat back on his heels, shoulders sagging with relief now that the immediate crisis had passed.

“What happened?” Optimus demanded. He had seen the entire display.

Ratchet sank further, gazing helplessly at the small body in front of him. “I... I don’t know...”

* * *

Two hours into the systems diagnosis and Ratchet and Wheeljack still had no idea what had gone wrong. Several wires and cables were plugged into Crystal’s body as data scrolled through the screen. Every system, every set of code was checked and rechecked. But everything looked to be running the way it should, completely by the book. Ratchet had gotten so frustrated with the situation Wheeljack had insisted on taking a turn because the medic was too frazzled to think straight anymore. Instead, the white Autobot paced in agitation around the room, going over the same equations in his head, trying to figure out what he had missed.

Optimus Prime was present as well. He had ordered the med bay quarantined and no one else was allowed in for any reason until the problem was solved. The Autobot leader was clearly uncomfortable with the situation as well, but was handling it better than Ratchet, who looked like he was down to his last nerve.

“Prime,” Ratchet said, his voice hoarse with stress. “I can’t go on like this anymore. Even if we fix this problem, neither Wheeljack nor I are qualified to keep monitoring this poor girl’s health. We _need_ Perceptor. Programming is his specialty. Prime, you have to get him down here. The sooner the better.”

Optimus leaned against the wall and watched Wheeljack hunch over information screen.

“That is not an easy request to make. Preparations for only one soldier to come to Earth is very uncommon, not to mention expensive. There are going to be questions as to why exactly we need him.”

Before Ratchet could push his argument, Wheeljack cried out and triumph.

“Found it!”

Ratchet was instantly standing behind him to witness the discovery himself.

“Look here,” Wheeljack said, pointing to a batch of code. Optimus Prime had no idea what it meant, but Ratchet nodded in understanding.

“We turned up her external stimulation sensory to better replicate the high sensitivity of human skin. I didn’t think we had it up too high to be a problem, but what happened is that there was a break from the stimulation impulses to the main processor. Crystal could feel the stimulation, but the system controlling her sensory perception wasn’t getting the signal at all. It kept thinking the sensory output was too low and kept trying to compensate by turning it up.

“Eventually it got so high that every little touch became magnified a thousand times over. It was so intense it was painful despite the fact that she wasn’t physically being harmed.”

Ratchet slammed his fist on the table, startling the other two Autobots in the room.“And I let her stay in that condition for three days. I need to get out of here.”

He stormed out of the med bay while the other two watched him go. Then Optimus turned his attention back to Wheeljack.

“But this problem can be corrected?”

“Easily,” Wheeljack confirmed as he began typing. “I’ll just need a few minutes to correct the code and she’ll be good as new.”

* * *

Later that day, Ratchet’s sulking form was found loitering in Wheeljack’s lab when he walked in.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Wheeljack said. “Since the med bay is your usual brooding place and I figured you weren’t ready to go back.”

Ratchet was hunched in Wheeljack’s chair, elbows on the table and fingers laced in front of his mouth which was set in a firm line. “How did it go?”

Wheeljack grabbed his extra chair and wheeled it over. “Fine. I’m letting the kid stay offline for a while longer while her system recalibrates. She could use a good rest after what she’s been through.”

Ratchet clenched his jaw.

“You know Wheeljack, the human medical community has a saying in one of their ancient languages: _primum non nocere_. It means ‘first, do no harm’. I am very doubtful that we have not done any harm here. You and I may not be creatures of nature, but I know enough about it to know when I’ve messed with it too much. We never should have put that human into a metal body. We have tampered with something natural and now we have something very unnatural on our hands.”

“It wasn’t our call, Ratchet,” Wheeljack countered. “We were just following orders. We weren’t the ones who--”

Ratchet slapped his palm on the table top as he turned to face him. “I don’t care! There should be a point where we’re allowed to say no! Organic things die! They have a point in life when it’s their time to go and we don’t have a right to mess with it!”

He moved his hand to cover his face and his rage seemed to crumble as his voice went weak with emotion. “She tried to tell me something was wrong and I thought I knew better. I got so swept up in everything else...”

He played back all the instances in his head where he should have payed more attention. The way she moved, the way she sulked around and avoided contact. When Jazz had visited, her emotional reaction had been misinterpreted by both. She had been shaking from the pain. And what really caused the medic’s spark to ache was knowing that the girl had chosen the pain of the contact rather than go without being near her friend.

What would it have been like to be in her place? All those quiet hours sitting alone in the back of the med bay. As she sat there, did she wonder if she was going to feel like that forever?

“She tried to tell me, and I didn’t listen. I made her stay that way, I slowly tortured her for three days,” Ratchet choked. “What am I going to do?”

Wheeljack casually stood up. “You do the same thing you always do, Ratchet. You fix it.” And with that, he walked out the door.

* * *

Wheeljack sat himself down in front of the monitor again. Optimus Prime was still there waiting in the medical bay for him to return. Crystal's body remained on the table, lifeless, optics dark, and the Autobot leader had kept the med bay closed in the meantime.

"I guess we're doing this just you and me," Wheeljack said as his fingers flew across the keys. "But it should be alright. I think we've got the problem solved. I'm going to restart her systems."

He stood and began to unplug all the wires that had been in Crystal's chest, then pressed a few buttons before closing the chest cavity. The sound of whirring systems powered up from the body and her optics flickered on. Crystal lay there for a moment, trying to come to terms with the sensation of all thought and feeling, pretty much all life, suddenly being cut off and then turned back on again. She stared at the ceiling until Wheeljack bent over her.

"How do you feel now?"

A look of realization came over her and Crystal sat up, looking herself over. "That feels better." She gave a little laugh of relief. "That feels fantastic! You fixed it! Thank you, Wheeljack."

"Why didn't you insist we look at you earlier?" came a voice by the door.

Ratchet.

Crystal shrugged weakly. "Everyone else came in and they were hurt. So I waited for them to get help."

Ratchet moved across the room and up to her, grabbing her chin to look her in the face. Gone were all the telltales signs: the hunched posture, the uncomfortable shifting and the dreary expression. All things he should have paid attention to, but ignored.

"I'm sorry," he said lowly. "Somehow I forgot how a healthy patient was supposed to look. Next time, if I'm too stupid to listen, you harrass me until I do, understand?"

Crystal shrugged weakly. “It’s okay, really. You did your best and you didn’t know.”

Ratchet put both hands on her shoulders and bent to meet her optics.

"I don't care how busy we are or who else we're helping. You at least let myself or Wheeljack know so we're aware of the problem. Promise me."

Crystal nodded. She had a hard enough time telling people she needed help, but she would do her best. Behind Ratchet, she saw Optimus Prime step out the door, going off to the world she had still yet to venture into. Maybe one day she would find the courage to do that as well.

**Close File #001 Harm: Ratchet**


	2. Limitless and Breakable

**The Autobot Files**

**File #002 Limitless**

**File #003 Breakable**

Two days after Crystal's systems had been fixed, Ratchet told her he was kicking her out. She had been showing more response to what was going on around her now that she was feeling better. Ratchet saw her several times peering down the hall, but never daring to step out. So Ratchet decided that he needed to give her a helpful boot, and also get some time to himself.

Crystal's cot was moved into Wheeljack's lab for the time being. Crystal would have to walk to the med bay from the lab every day for her system diagnostics which would force her to get out more and walk around the base. At least that was the plan.

"Okay, Crystal," Wheeljack called into the med bay. "Everything is set up. Come on, I'll show you where it is."

Crystal stepped forward, but paused in the doorway, looking indecisively down the hall.

"Come on," Wheeljack urged, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the hallway. "It's not far, they're almost right next to each other."

Crystal allowed herself to be pulled as she latched onto Wheeljack's arm and stayed close to him.

Wheeljack chuckled. "Agoraphobia."

"What?" Crystal asked.

"It's the fear of large, open spaces. And fear of leaving your safety zone."

Crystal ducked her head guiltily. "Yeah, I might have that... a little."

They passed a green Autobot coming up the hall who stepped aside to give them room. He gave Crystal a tight smile that attempted to be friendly, but she only looked at her feet and stayed close to Wheeljack.

"Here it is," Wheeljack said, pulling them down a short hall with only one door.

Crystal wrinkled her nose when she saw the new room where she would stay.

"It's.. a little cluttered," she said, trying to be polite, but obviously disgusted by how much junk was scattered everywhere.

"It's a controlled clutter," Wheeljack insisted. "I still know where everything is..." He looked around, scratching his head. "For the most part."

"Controlled my aft!" Brawn said as he walked in. "This place is a certified dump by every definition of the word. You're lucky Red Alert's been gone for a few years. He would have had this place condemned by now. Remember last time he came?"

"Don't remind me," Wheeljack said, a frown in his voice. "It really makes you appreciate how much Prowl will overlook."

Crystal perked up at the mention of the black and white Autobot, but didn't say anything when he wasn't mentioned again.

"So, they're making you stay here, are they Princess?" Brawn asked "We'll have to see what we can do to get you better accommodations than this."

"I don't mind, it's fine," Crystal insisted. "I don't want to be a bother."

"In fact, you came in just in time to help," Wheeljack told her. "That's what I called Brawn here for. We're going to do some experiments!"

There was a special light in his optics when he said that and the glowing fins on the side of his head seemed to burn extra bright. Crystal had no idea what she was in for.

"Right," Brawn agreed, rubbing his hands together. "What's going out?"

"This, this, and this." Wheeljack pointed to various objects of curious design. "And then, of course, this." He motioned to a large, squarish chunk of technology that was about the same height as Crystal.

Brawn cracked his metal knuckles. "I got this one."

Wheeljack pushed a button on the wall two large metal doors at the back of the room slid open, making plenty of room for Brawn to get through with his cargo.

Crystal peered out the large bay doors at the open Oregon wilderness that lay beyond. The door was part of the side of the volcano and a chilled November breeze blew into the lab.

"Makes it easier to get my inventions outside," Wheeljack explained while Brawn effortlessly picked up the heavy mystery appliance and hefted it outside. "Crystal, help me carry these."

She trotted over to Wheeljack who was packing a few objects in his arms.

"Grab that one, will ya?"

Crystal looked at the device slightly bigger than a watermelon was to a human. As she attempted to lift it, she grunted in surprise when she found it far heavier than anticipated.

"Too heavy?" Wheeljack wondered. "That does have a very dense structure. Try this." He handed her one of the devices he had in his arms with one hand. Crystal took it and frowned when she seemed to have far more trouble carrying it than he did.

"You got it?" Wheeljack asked.

"Yeah, I can take it," she replied with determination. Still, she struggled to carry it outside while Wheeljack followed, easily packing the heavier object she had left behind.

"Need help there?" Brawn asked and took the object from her.

Crystal frowned as she watched him carry it like it weighed no more than a pillow. "Why is everything so heavy to me and not you guys?" she complained. "I'm not that much smaller than you."

"The weight we can carry depends on our joints," Wheeljack explained. "Some are designed to handle more stress than others. Yours has a very low stress design."

"You're just not built for heavy lifting, Princess," Brawn said. "That's all. Nothing wrong with that."

Crystal continued to frown. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Brawn knelt to reach under the large appliance and plug in one of the smaller devices. He then stood up, brushing off his hands. "Because Princess, you're practically royalty here. There isn't at Autobot at this base that wouldn't be at your beck and call if you decided to use that to your advantage. Even if they didn't want to, the others would make them. Even our AWOL second in command would show up at your doorstep if you so wished it.

"Of course, you wouldn't know that because you prefer to stay up in your tower with your two bodyguards. Until you decide to come out, the rest of your humble servants are walking on eggshells, trying not to bother you and not going to the med bay when they have an injury until they absolutely have to."

Crystal's mouth twitched. "Is that the reason why Ratchet kicked me out?"

"One of them," Brawn nodded. "I think he and Prime are hoping you'll start to integrate yourself with the crew one of these days instead of staying our Princess locked in her tower. Because they certainly aren't going to take the initiative to come to you. They're too afraid of you."

Crystal folded her arms, not sure she agreed with the analogy. "But you're not," she accused of Brawn.

He just waved her off. "Eh, I have to see Wheeljack all the time so I figured I would just get the awkward part over with so I could conduct business as usual."

Crystal had to nod. That part seemed practical to her.

"Okay you two, are you ready for this?" Wheeljack asked excitedly. He had finished hooking up all the different wires and attachments and was ready to go.

"What are we testing?" Crystal wondered.

"It's a thermal power converter," Wheeljack explained. "We have several of these taping the thermal energy from the volcano to power our base. But I'm trying to make one strong enough to power some heavy weaponry to help beef up the Ark's outer defenses. Brawn, if you could grab the insulated cable."

Said "cable" was actually a large tube that snaked out from the side of the volcano and Brawn plugged it into the back of the converter.

"You're good to go.” He gave the inventor a thumbs up.

"I don't see any kind of weapon on it," Crystal pointed out.

"The laser cannot hasn't been built yet. Right now I'm just doing some testing. The problem with thermal energy is the heat, and our weapons need to stay cool or they'll bust. We don't have anything like volcanoes on Cybertron, so it's been trial and error harvesting this kind of energy to power our tech.”

He picked up the remote and turned it on. The contraption whirred to life, humming with a healthy tone. All seemed good so far.

"The heat is already building up," Wheeljack said with a frown in his voice. "Maybe I should make a secondary converter that cools the energy before transferring it to the main generator...." He drifted off as he took a few more measurements and recorded some data while his two assistants politely waited for him to finish. When he was done, he went back to his remote and took several steps back.

"Now, we're going to see how much stress it can take," Wheeljack announced, increasing the power to its fullest.

Brawn gave him a look. "You're not happy unless every one of your inventions ends in an explosion, aren't you?"

" _Controlled_ explosion!" Wheeljack insisted, optics bright. "How am I supposed to know its limits otherwise?"

"Isn't that half the fun?" Crystal remarked. "Not knowing what the limits are?"

"Oh no," Wheeljack countered, full of passion. "You have to know your limits so you can push past them. That's what science is all about! You have to find the wall and then figure out how to break it. THAT is where the fun is."

Crystal's optics brightened. She seemed to have been inspired by his speech and grinned madly at him.

"Let's blow it, then!"

If Wheeljack had a mouth, he probably would have had a manic grin on his face as he cranked up the power to full blast. The thermal converter hummed and rumbled and Brawn tapped Crystal on the shoulder and beckoned her to take cover behind the side of the volcano. The converter began to glow red with heat, vibrating and steaming in the cold air. It hissed and wined dangerously. Then with a loud bang, a small piece of it took off from the ground and exploded in the air, parts raining down everywhere. Wheeljack was still right in the midst of it as the device clunked to a dead stop, still hissing from its overheated parts.

"1600 Megaklicks," he read on his scale. "I still need at least 1800 to 2000 to make a proper laser cannon. This design definitely needs a few modifications."

"One of these days he's going to stand too close and he'll need more than just a few modifications of his own," Brawn mumbled.

Crystal grinned and walked over to stand next to Wheeljack, eyeing what remained of the experiment and watching the smoke waft out of the gaping hole in its side.

"That was kind of fun," she told him.

"It's always fun," Wheeljack said. "I'll let you know when I have another one ready."

"Alright," Brawn announced. "Let's get this thing back inside. I have other things I want to do today."

"I'll help," Crystal announced as she crouched down to reach under the bulk of the machine to unplug the wiring underneath.

"Be careful," Wheeljack warned. "It's still very hot."

No sooner had he said that, the legs holding up the heavy converter suddenly collapsed and the entire thing fell on her arm. Crystal cried out in alarm and immediately tried to get away, but her arm was pinned down solid at the elbow.

Wheeljack and Brawn immediately moved to her aid and the latter lifted the massive machine off of her. Crystal instantly cradled her arm. It was cracked in several places and some of her fingers were hanging off on wires from different joints. She reeled backward, writhing in discomfort and looking completely overwhelmed.

"You okay?" Brawn asked. He had his hands aloof as if to touch her, but he didn't look like he dared.

"Ugh, wh-- what is this... this feeling?" she squirmed.

"That's your pain receptors actually working normally," Wheeljack said as he knelt next to her. "Let me see it."

Crystal flinched, but allowed Wheeljack to inspect her crushed arm. "I don't like it," she complained. "It feels awful. It doesn't feel like normal pain, but, it doesn't feel right."

"It's not supposed to feel good. It's there to let you know that your body has been injured and that you need to get it fixed. Brawn, do you want to take her down to the med bay?"

Brawn's optics widened. "Uh, you better do it, Jack. I’m not good with that... sort of thing."

Wheeljack picked her up in his arms without warning and Crystal squeaked in protest.

"Woah, hey! I can walk! It's just my arm."

"Sorry," Wheeljack said as he turned to go inside. "Ratchet is already going to tear out my transistors for this, I'm not letting him add anything to the pile." He glanced behind him. "Can you get that stuff back into my lab, Brawn?"

"No problem, got it, Wheeljack.”

Wheeljack carried Crystal through his lab and down the hall towards the med bay. It was obvious she didn't want to be carried. She seemed to try and shrink in his arms, embarrassed. But Wheeljack continued into the med bay regardless and earned an incredulous and angry look from Ratchet when he entered.

"Already?" the medical officer demanded. "Be more careful! She's delicate! You know that!"

"Sorry," Wheeljack offered lamely as he set her down on the nearest table. "I didn't expect that to happen."

"You don't expect anything to happen," Ratchet berated. "You just like to push things until they break. That's why everyone thinks you're a lunatic. Now get out."

Properly chastised, Wheeljack fled from the medical bay. Crystal looked after him in sympathy.

"You didn't have to be that harsh on him. I didn't get hurt because of anything he did. It was my fault."

"It's for his own good," Ratchet insisted. "That idiot loves to push limits. But he sometimes forgets some limits, for safety reasons, need to be left alone." His expression turned a bit softer as he reached to take the injured arm. "So how about you, are you okay?"

Crystal flinched at the touch, unsure of how it was all going to feel. "Oh, I don't know, Ratchet. You may have to pull the plug this time. I don't think I'm going to make it."

Ratchet narrowed his optics at her until he realized it was her dry attempt at humor.

"Okay, well come over here," he helped her off the table and led her to a chair so he could properly inspect the arm at his desk. "I’m going to have to weld a few things back together. It's not going to hurt, but you will feel sensation from it, okay?"

Crystal nodded and steeled herself, both curious and nervous over what it would be like.

Ratchet pulled out a small welder and proceeded to work on the fingers. Crystal watched, intrigued. She could feel the welder on her metal skin. She could tell it was hot, but it didn't burn or really even hurt. The robot equivalent of pain seemed to come from the internal wires, stressed by the break in her outer metal shell. Ratchet put the wires back in, fixing the ones that were broken, and repaired the finger joints. The uncomfortable sensation began to recede.

"Hey Ratchet," an impatient male voice called from behind them in the med bay. "Is this going to take long? You said you'd have time for me today."

Ratchet didn't look up from his work. "You know the rules, Tracks, injuries come before tune-ups."

Crystal glanced behind her to see a sleek, blue Autobot lightly kick at some junk with frustration.

"Don't mind Tracks," Ratchet said lowly. "Some Autobots are more vain than others and they like to have their paint jobs just so and their engines always sounding right or else they get cranky."

Crystal kept staring at the blue Autobot as he paced around. "He is gorgeous."

Though she hadn't meant for him to hear, Tracks obviously did because he paraded up to them and looked down at her.

"Of course I am. There isn't an Autobot alive that wouldn't want to trade places for this design. Someone like you should count yourself lucky to even catch a glimpse of me."

Crystal stared in complete bafflement. "Someone like me?! What is that supposed to mean?"

Tracks looked her up and down as clearly someone beneath him. "Let me see if I can put it into a way you can understand. The gods may have made us all able to fly, but not everyone can be eagles. Someone has to be the little brown sparrows, too."

Crystal’s jaw dropped. "You're an ass!" she blurted without thinking.

Tracks, clearly not expecting a comeback, mirrored her slack jawed response. "I'll have you know--"

"Tracks, not now," Ratchet said in a sharp tone that left no room for argument. "Come back in twenty minutes and I'll take care of you then."

Tracks managed to give Crystal a rather sharp glare before retreating from the repair bay without any more complaint. She frowned after him.

"Don't pay him any mind," Ratchet said when they were alone. "He tends to get cranky when he doesn't get his tune-up right when he wants it. It's not personal. He can actually be quite pleasant when you learn to play to his ego."

_'Oh yes, let me be able to do that,'_ Crystal thought, but kept it to herself. She knew better than to mouth off in someone else's home. She shouldn’t have even said as much as she did. She was a guest here, even a stranger. And she was raised better than that. So she just nodded and occupied her mind elsewhere by looking at her reflection in the shiny wall next to her. It was a bit blurred, but she could see the correct shape and colors.

"Why are my eye thingies green? Everyone else's I've seen are blue."

"Wheeljack said your eyes were green so we decided to make your optics that color."

Crystal slouched. "Something else to make me different."

"Would you rather we make you look like one of us? Brawn perhaps? Or do you want to look more like Tracks and show him what for? Or something like Wheeljack maybe? Or myself?"

"Point taken," Crystal conceded. "But would I be out of line if I said it feels like you built me kind of weak and flimsy?"

Ratchet pulled out a second welding tool and began working on the breaks in her arm. "We built you with what we had to work with. It wasn't exactly a project we were expecting and our materials were limited. I think we did a pretty good job with what we had. True, you won't be doing any extreme physical work, lifting heavy objects or fighting, but no one expects you to. You are fine the way you are for now." He looked up and gave her a reassuring smile. "Maybe after you've become a bit more accustomed to that body and living with us, we'll discuss some design upgrades.”

Crystal nodded. She could live with that answer for now.

* * *

When Crystal returned to Wheeljack’s lab she found him doing what she considered to be Ratchet’s job. Brawn was laying down on the one clean table in the lab as Wheeljack dug into his exposed shoulder joint.

“Oh no, what happened?” she asked as she ran up to the table.

“Nothing to worry about Princess,” Brawn assured her. “Completely routine maintenance stuff. Nothing more.”

“Do you not like Ratchet to do them for you?” she wondered.

“Nah, he’s fixed me before. But my joints take a lot of strain. They have to be replaced all the time and, well, being one of Wheeljack’s first projects, he usually takes care of that.”

Crystal looked a bit surprised and turned to Wheeljack for an explanation. Project?

“It was when this war first started,” Wheeljack said as he pulled out the worn shoulder joint and reached for a new one. “The Autobots were hurting real bad. Brawn and I had known each other for a while and he asked me to design him a new body. One that was stronger, that could take a hit better in battle. So I made this one. The body had to be smaller so it wouldn’t break under extreme weight. Brawn could lift far more than a mech twice his size and it required twice the fire power to bring him down.”

“Really?” Crystal said, perking up with interest. “So you _can_ adjust a body to become stronger!”

“Uh-uh,” Brawn said, wagging a finger in her face. “Strength comes with a price, Your Highness. My joints take on so much strain, they wear down twice as fast. I have to constantly have them replaced or my body goes straight to scrap. It’s a huge pain in the aft.”

Crystal didn’t look swayed. “Can I watch?”

Brawn smirked. “You like to watch, huh?”

Crystal looked absolutely flabbergasted he pulled that line on her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” she shot back, optics wide and tone playful.

“You can help, too, if you want,” Wheeljack said. He stopped what he was currently doing and fetched a small handheld device from a shelf. “I use this to help me locate things when I can’t find them. You just scan an item or device and it tells you what it is. It also helps you search for a specific one. You just speak into it.”

He handed it to her. “Push the search button. I’m looking for a turbo wrench.”

“Turbo wrench,” Crystal repeated into the device.

“Searching,” came an automated female voice. Then the item in question appeared on the screen, showing her what it looked like.

“My tools are over there.” Wheeljack nodded in a particular direction of his lab.

“On it.”

Crystal ran off to look for the desired tool with gusto.

Brawn chuckled as she went. “How long do you think you’ll last with her in here?”

“We’ll see,” Wheeljack replied lowly. “I have a bet with myself to last longer than Ratchet did. Though I wouldn’t complain if she finally started being a bit more proactive and wasn’t underfoot all the time. If she doesn’t,” he shrugged, “I guess we'll figure it out if it becomes a problem.”

* * *

Crystal dashed this way and that, gathering up burnt scraps of metal from Wheeljack’s earlier experiment. It was the last of all the small tasks Wheeljack had asked of her. The sun was setting as she brought in the last of it. When she came in, she noticed Brawn sitting on the side of the sleeping volcano and walked back outside to greet him.

“Hey, can I join you?” she called.

“Sure, plenty of room here, Princess,” Brawn replied casually.

Crystal tried to climb up to him, but she had trouble getting her footing.

“Can you give me a hand?”

It was not lost on her that Brawn took more than a moment’s hesitation before reaching out to carefully grab her wrist and pull her up. Crystal plopped herself down next to him.

“You come up here often?”

Brawn shrugged as he folded his arms behind his head. “I like watching the sunset every once in a while. We don’t have them on Cybertron. One of these days I’ll be going back home and I’ll probably miss evenings like this.”

“Ah,” Crystal responded as they slipped into silence.

A moment passed and she opened her mouth again.

“You know, no one has called me Princess since I was seven years old.”

“Oh?” Brawn asked. “If you want me to, I can stop. It was just a joke.”

“No,” she shook her head, a small smile on her face. “It’s fine.”

They lapsed into silence again, but something was definitely weighing on Crystal’s mind.

“I’m just getting in the way around here, aren’t I?” she blurted. “Ratchet and Wheeljack, they have better things to do than accommodate me.”

Brawn didn’t have to ask if she had heard Wheeljack’s earlier comment. The look on her face said it all.

“I can’t help it,” she continued when Brawn didn’t respond. “I’ve always been used to taking care of myself, to be the one who always knows what to do, but here...” She shook her head in bafflement. “It’s not like when I had Autobots at my place. I felt a bit over my head, but at least I was in my element and I knew there was still something I could do.

“Being in this situation is so far past my imagination I am completely lost over what to do. This place isn’t my home, it’s yours. There is nothing on this base that is mine, there is nowhere I feel it’s okay to be. I can feel it stronger every day that I don’t belong in this world and there is nothing I can do to change it. How am I supposed to make this place my home when I’m not supposed to be here?”

Brawn was silent for a while, then he leaned over. “Listen up Princess, you think we don’t understand what it’s like to live in a place you don’t belong? We’re giant alien robots from another planet. You belong here more than we do. Even our home planet isn’t like home anymore. We crashed here a couple million years ago and slept while our world went on without us. Nothing is the way we left it.

“And even me, sometimes I don’t feel like the other Autobots because of my design. My shipmates will often give me a wide berth down the halls ‘cuz they’re afraid I’m gonna hurt them or something.”

He made a sound close to a sigh.

“Remember when I said power comes with a price?” He looked down at his hands. “In this body, everything feels so... breakable. Like the things I struggle to protect will crumble in these powerful hands and I would do better to keep my distance. So I just watch and protect. It’s all I can do.”

Crystal studied his face. “Is that why you don’t ever want to touch me? You think I’ll break?”

Brawn gave her a weak smile. “More or less, kid.”

She laughed. It wasn’t a response he was expecting.

“Well don’t worry about me,” she insisted. “I may look flimsy, but I can handle it, okay?”

She gave him a friendly jab in the shoulder and the knuckle on her fist instantly cracked. Out of her mouth came the same sentiment Brawn was thinking.

“Crap!”

**Close File #002 Limitless - Wheeljack**

**Close File #003 Breakable - Brawn**


	3. Change

**The Autobot Files**

**File #004 Change**

“Hey, Prime,” Jazz said as he knocked on Optimus Prime’s open office doorway. “Guess who finally decided to come back to us.”

Optimus looked up where he was going over some reports send from Cybertron, usually something Prowl liked to do. But in his absence, the Prime had taken up the slack.

Optimus Prime's office/captain’s quarters was small and cramped. Space was a rare commodity in the Ark. It certainly wasn’t designed for a luxury voyage when it was built. It was made for a very drastic trip and now it was used as a makeshift military base. It left a lot to be desired. But having lived there for their entire time on Earth, it just felt like a second home to most of them.

“Where is he now?” Optimus asked, not looked up.

“Off in recharge. But boy Prime, he’s going to drop something heavy in our laps when he gets out. I can feel it.”

Optimus leaned back in his chair.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Radio me when Prowl is done and have him come to my office. I’m sure he’s planning to talk with us anyway.”

“You got it, Chief.” Jazz threw him a thumbs up and sauntered down the hall.

Knowing his missing second-in-command was back rendered Optimus unable to concentrate. He had no idea where Prowl had gone or why. He did not know if Prowl had left to merely lick his wounds and come to terms with what he had done, or if he had sent himself out on a personal mission. Knowing Prowl, Optimus was leaning toward the latter option. Accepting the idea that Prowl had been up to something for the past several days made Optimus restless to find out what it was.

Unable to pay attention to his reports, Optimus stood and wandered the base. He felt the need to check on things. As if to prove to himself that the base hadn't fallen apart these past few days without Prowl's fastidious eye to keep it all in check.

As Optimus neared Wheeljack’s lab, he heard a high-pitched scream coming from that direction. However, it did not sound like it came from the only female resident of the Ark.

Optimus stepped into the lab in time to see Wheeljack grabbing his head and screaming “What did you DO?!”

The one he was yelling at, Crystal, had her hands clasped behind her back and looked as proud as could be. She was about to explain when she noticed Optimus standing there and waved to him with a cheerful “Hi!”

Optimus looked from Wheeljack’s distressed body language to Crystal’s smiling face. “What happened in here?”

“Optimus Prime, I’m being domestic!” she announced proudly.

“She cleaned my lab!” Wheeljack shrieked. “I’m gone for only half a day and THIS is what I come back to!”

Optimus looked around and saw the laboratory was indeed cleaner than it had been in a very long time; perhaps ever.

“Well, ain’t that purdy as a picture,” Ironhide chuckled as he leaned against the door frame. Wheeljack’s squawking must have piqued his curiosity as well.

“No, it’s not!” Wheeljack cried. “How am I supposed to find anything now?!”

“But Wheeljack, I organized it,” Crystal insisted. “Everything is sorted by type and size and then alphabetized in their sections.”

“How do you even know what they _are_?” Wheeljack demanded.

“With this!” She held up the handheld device Wheeljack had shown her how to use the day before.

“That doesn’t mean I know where to find anything!” the inventor barked.

“Do you know the alphabet?” Crystal shot back in a flat voice. She was obviously a bit irritated her hard work wasn’t being appreciated.

Wheeljack didn’t say anything, but he looked as though he was going to short circuit something at any moment.

“Ya know what?” Ironhide announced, getting in between the two. “Ah think I’m gonna show the kid around a bit while you get acquainted with yer new lab. How about that?”

Crystal’s optics went wide. Maybe no one had told Ironhide that she didn’t like to be outside the lab or the med bay. In truth, Ironhide was very aware. He was also aware that, for some reason, Crystal really wanted Ironhide to like her. And since Jazz had no luck coercing her out, he decided he would have to be the one to do it.

“Um...” Crystal said quietly. “I don’t think I--”

“What?” Ironhide demanded before she could finish. “Ya don’t want to go with me? I'm not worthy of your time? Is that it?”

She looked horrified at that accusation. “No! No! I would love to go with you, it’s just that...”

“Well, come on then! Don’t make me waste the time I took ta come down here.”

For some reason, either the words or the tone or the combination of both, Crystal responded with a “Yes, sir! Coming!” and then trailed obediently after him out of the room.

Wheeljack and Optimus looked at each other.

“How did he do that?” the inventor asked.

* * *

Crystal only made it about half way down the hall before latching self-consciously onto Ironhide’s arm. He immediately looked down in disapproval.

“Come on, what’s this?” he ordered.

Crystal let go of him and slunk back like a puppy that had just been reprimanded.

Ironhide stopped and put his hands on his hips, looking back at her.

“What is the problem here?”

She looked down, scuffing her toe on the floor. “Well, you know, this is your home. I feel like I’m invading someone else’s space. It feels kind of rude to wander around like I’m allowed to go wherever I want.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! This is a BASE. It’s not someone’s house. Those rooms and these halls are built for every crew member here. That includes yourself.”

“I’m a crew member?” Crystal asked with wide optics.

“Not yet yer’re not! Not ‘til ya start doin’ somethin’ ta pull yer own weight. And the first thing is ta know yer way around the base. Otherwise, we gotta keep babysittin’ ya and that takes precious time away from other important things we could be doin’.”

Perhaps Ironhide would have been chastised by certain Autobots for not being more delicate, but they weren’t there. And Crystal didn’t really seem to mind. Stark realization spread over her face that seemed to say that was exactly what she needed to hear.

“I understand,” she said, a new determination in her stance. “Show me.”

Ironhide did. He showed her the main control room and introduced her to Teletraan One. He showed her where the ammunition and energy storage rooms were, the bunkers and the recharge room. He explained how the recharge berths worked and how to tell when one was occupied. The Ark currently had five berths at their disposal. They almost looked like coffins, complete with lids. The crew took turns using them on an assigned schedule. Currently, two were in use.

Lastly, Ironhide escorted her the recreation room. Crystal had seen it once before, if for a brief second. It looked much like one would expect it to, with a few tables and places to sit here and there. One table was occupied and Ironhide steered them toward it. Crystal was a bit hesitant, but she didn’t have a choice as the larger, heavier Autobot took her by the arm.

“Have a seat,” he said, motioning to a large chair at the table where two other Autobots were sitting.

Crystal shyly sat herself down, feeling quite like a little kid with how she was being treated and how large the chair was.

“This is Hound,” Ironhide said, motioning to the green Autobot and then to the blue and white one next to him. “And this is Mirage.”

Crystal nodded politely as Ironhide walked off, saying he would be right back.

The blue one smiled at her. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Crystal gave him a confused look for a moment and then realization hit her. “Oh Mirage! Yes! I didn’t recognize you being how I can see you and all.”

Mirage chuckled. “That’s completely understandable. How are you doing so far?”

At that point Sideswipe sauntered in, paused when he saw who was in there, and immediately turned on his heel and left as fast as he could.

Mirage and Hound noticed it and looked at each other, wondering what that was about.

Crystal had her back to the door and didn’t see. She was focused on not warranting any sympathy from these new Autobots. She didn't want them to feel sorry for her, even though she often felt sorry for herself. “I’m doing okay. I’m still adjusting to everything, but every day gets a little better. I'm trying to figure out what to do with myself now. Ironhide is helping me with that today.”

Ironhide sat down with two glowing pink cubes in his hand. He gave her the smaller one.

“What’s this?” she wondered.

“It’s energon,” the one called Hound said. “You drink it.”

Crystal decided she liked his voice. It wasn’t as deep as Mirage’s but it had a similar mellowness to it. She inspected the glowing cube, about relatively the size of a coffee mug.

“Do I need it?”

“Ya mean you’ve been here how long and you’ve never had any?” Ironhide demanded. “What have those two glitches been doing to you? It’s a wonder ya haven’t fallen down from lack of energy.”

“She probably doesn’t need it as often,” Hound offered pragmatically. “With her size and no alt mode, she doesn’t use nearly as much energy as we do.”

“Gas guzzler,” Crystal tried to joke as she ribbed Ironhide in the side.

“But for Ironhide, the most energy goes to running his vocal processor,” Mirage added to the teasing.

“Hey now,” Ironhide warned.

“I don’t mind. He can talk all he wants. I like listening to him.” Crystal smiled. She leaned on her elbow and watched Ironhide with a certain admiration as he took a long drink of his energon cube. “He kind of reminds me of my dad.”

Ironhide instantly spat out all that he had just consumed. He stared at Crystal with bafflement. Hound and Mirage sat across from them, dripping in energon.

“Hey guys!” Jazz called pleasantly as he came in. “Just thought I’d stop by and--” He paused, noticing Hound and Mirage. “What happened to you guys?”

Both of them gave their second-in-command a very unamused look.

“I have to go,” Hound said flatly as he stood.

Mirage muttered something under his breath before disappearing. Phantom sticky footprints made their way across the floor as he left. Jazz eyed the now empty seats before going to get himself one that wasn’t wet with energon.

“So, you guys just having a drink?” he asked as he slid his chair next to Crystal.

“Ironhide got this cube for me. I never tried it before.”

Jazz looked excited for her. “Oh! First time! Let’s see how you like it.”

Crystal turned her attention to the cube on the table in front of her She gingerly picked it up using both hands and looked it over from several angles.

“It looks neat, but how do I drink it?”

“Just pour from the corner, the cube does the rest,” Jazz urged.

Crystal brought the glowing object to her lips and took a cautionary sip. She wasn’t in the habit of consuming day-glow liquids, but if the Autobots insisted it was okay, she would give it a try. The energon, as they had called it, went down surprisingly easy. It was thick, but fluid like hot watered-down honey. It had a taste, but she wasn’t sure how to describe it. Taste seemed like a completely different sense than it did when she was human. She didn’t have a tongue, but her body told her that the engergon was good. Also, good for her, and she felt kind of warm and happy like hot chocolate on a winter morning as she drank more of it.

“That’s not bad at all,” Crystal reported. “So Ironhide showed me where the recharge berths are. Do I have to use those, too, or...?”

“Yup,” Jazz nodded. “Just like when you were human you had to eat and sleep. The energon gives our bodies energy, but the recharge berths keep power in our inner core. Kind of like... how you have to put fuel in a car but it has a battery, too. Consuming a daily ration of energon is a good idea, but you could go for a couple days without if you had to. The recharge berths are more like once a week unless something happens to drain your energy.”

Crystal nodded in understanding. Jazz stiffened as an internal alarm beeped at him. “And speaking of which, there’s.... someone getting out that I need to talk to. See you later, Crys.”

“Bye, Jazz,” she called.

Jazz slapped the still-stunned Ironhide on the back with a “Relax, man.” before heading out the door.

* * *

As soon as Prowl had finished his recharge, he, Jazz and Optimus gathered in their leader’s small office to discuss what the black and white Autobot had been doing during his unofficial leave. What he had to say was not something either of the other two were expecting.

“I’ve been investigating the murder,” Prowl announced. “I want to find the person who did this to Crystal.”

Optimus said nothing; did nothing.

“Isn’t it attempted murder?” Jazz asked. “I mean, she’s still alive. In a manner of speaking.”

Prowl shot him a sharp look.

“Is this really the course of action you want to take, Prowl?” Optimus finally said.

“Someone has to,” Prowl replied gravely. “A serious crime has been committed and no one knows about it. I’ve been listening to the police channels and the news. Crystal was only officially registered as a missing person three days ago. The police are just barely finding blood at the murder scene. That is all they have to go on.”

Optimus regarded him levelly, not betraying an inch of what he was thinking. “And what more do you have to go on?”

“There are only a few suspects it could be.” Prowl counted off on his fingers. “It wasn’t Decepticons. The second shot fired went right through my windshield on the driver’s side. The gunman didn’t know I was an Autobot. Plus the bullet came from a human weapon.

“The second set of suspects would be the group that captured Cybertronians and reprogrammed them. Who, by the way, was organized by a Dr. Kraus who has also been missing since then. They had the weaponry, but there would be no way they could find out where Crystal lived in one night and set up a sniper before we arrived to her apartment.

“That leaves only Tony Russo. He had sent armed thugs after her before, which we all witnessed. I looked up his background. He has ties to the Italian mafia and there are known instances where people who have gone up against him or have owed him money have mysteriously disappeared. I’ve been researching his operation and I have gathered data on--”

“You’ve been in New York all this time?” Jazz demanded. “You really think this guy had nothing better to do but send one of his goons across the country to off some girl for beating one of his fighters?”

“He’s the prime suspect,” Prowl shot back.

“That isn’t your job, Prowl. If these guys did it, and we don’t know that they did, then they’re subject to human law. Human authorities have to bring them in. You can’t.”

“I can still see justice served,” Prowl insisted as he motioned to the data pads he brought in that were sitting on Optimus’ desk. “I can tell the police what I know and give them the information I have. It will at least put them on the right trail. They will be able to find out who did it, I’m sure of it.”

Optimus had remained quiet, watching his two seconds bicker. “Are you sure you believe this is a good idea, Prowl? Not only will you have to tell the authorities everything you know, but you will also have to tell them what we have done with that missing girl.”

Prowl pressed his lips. Obviously he had thought long and hard about this. “Truth is always the right answer. I will face up to my actions if that is what it takes.”

Jazz stared at him. “Prime, I don’t know if--”

Optimus raised a hand to silence him. “Very well, I agree that what you propose is logical. But first, I want us all to discuss this with Crystal before any action is taken. There will be no more decisions made for her without her consent. I want that clear to both of you.”

Jazz saluted while Prowl tightly gripped the armrest of his chair and nodded.

* * *

Crystal was found in the main control room, playing Spider Solitaire on Teletraan One. Jazz had to pause to look at the odd scene.

“Really? You’re doing _that_ with the most sophisticated computer we have on board?”

Crystal slumped in her seat. “Blaster said I could.”

Jazz walked up, folding his arms and leaning his hip casually on the consul. “I’m not surprised. Blaster is supposed to be watching this room right now. I bet he thought you were good enough.” He paused to watch her move cards around on the screen. “Ah... so that’s how you play that.”

Crystal glanced to the extra Autobot standing in the doorway before going back to her game. “I see you brought someone with you. It’s nice to see you back, Prowl.” Her voice stayed painfully neutral.

“I came back because there is something very important we need to discuss with you,” Prowl replied in the same tone, not moving any closer.

Crystal set her jaw, taking a moment before responding. “You’re just lucky I love you or we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

She slapped Jazz’s hand away when he tried to make a move on her virtual card game.

“Crystal,” Optimus Prime said with authority as he walked in. “I would very much appreciate your time for a moment, if you would come with me?”

She stood up, game forgotten. “Yes, Optimus Prime.”

Jazz opened a radio channel to Blaster as they began walking out. “Hey man, you got caught. Get back here and finish your shift in the control room.”

 _Uuuuugh!_ came the moan of complaint over the radio. _Okay, fine. Blaster out._

* * *

“YOU’RE GOING TO DO WHAT?!” Crystal screeched as she jumped to her feet. Her voice was so high pitched and loud it probably made its way down the hall even though the door to Optimus’ office was closed.

All three Autobots flinched from it.

“It will be okay,” Jazz tried to calm her. “We'll do everything for you. You won't have to even talk to anyone if you don't want to.”

“No!” Crystal insisted sharply. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you are not thinking things through!”

“Maybe we should give you some time to think it over,” Prowl suggested from the far corner of the office. “Then you will see that this is a logical solution.”

“Logical? This is ridiculous! If you tell the authorities you know of a murder, they’re going to ask you where my body is. They’re going to ask you what you did with it and they’re going to want to see it. Not to mention that you tampered with a murder scene, which is against the law.”

The three Autobots were silent and Crystal continued.

“And as lovely as it’s going to be for me to go through that, when you tell them what you DID to me, you’re going to have a whole three-ring circus on your hands.”

Optimus steepled his fingers in thought. “You don’t believe your fellow humans will accept you? You’re afraid of what they will say?”

“Oh no,” Crystal vowed, optics wide. “That’s going to be the least of our problems.” She walked over to his desk, pressing both her palms upon it to further press her point.

“You have the ability to put the life of a human being into a robot body. You can make people basically immortal, not to mention stronger than they have ever been. Politicians, millionaires, celebrities, military personnel: anyone with money and power is going to be banging down the door and harassing every Autobot for just a hint of that kind of technology. The entire world will go nuts.” She looked right into the Autobot leader’s optics with fiery conviction. “No matter what happens, humanity cannot know that you can do this.”

Optimus Prime made no response, but Prowl wasn’t about to sit quietly.

“But what about your murderer? Don’t you want to see justice done for what he did to you?”

Crystal just gave him a sad look which seemed to agitate Prowl further.

“He’s still out there! What if he hurts other people? Do you want to be responsible for that if you can stop it?”

Crystal opened her mouth and then closed it with a helpless shrug. “I don’t have an answer for that, Prowl. But if you’re looking for my consent on this, I’m not going to give it and I’m not going to help you.”

Prowl pressed his mouth in a thin line, clenching his fists at his sides. For a moment it appeared he had something to say, but then he turned on his heels and left the office with the door sliding shut behind him.

Jazz sat up from where he slouched in his chair, wondering if he was expected to leave as well.

“I suppose this meeting is over,” Optimus Prime announced.

“Alright, I’m going to go check on Prowl, then.” Jazz said. “Just gonna make sure he doesn’t pop a gasket or, you know, leave the state again.”

When Jazz had gone, an uncomfortable silence fell over the room between two individuals who had absolutely nothing in common.

“I, uh, have something I believe is yours,” Optimus said, standing up and walking to a small apparatus that had been hanging on his wall.

“Hey, I know this,” Crystal said as she looked it over. “This couldn’t be that tiny wind chime that was hanging in my car, could it?”

“I’m afraid it is,” Optimus admitted. “I took it when we fled the car and I forgot to give it back. When we were returned to our correct height, this was still on me and it grew in size as well.”

Crystal turned the now very large wind chime over in her hands and read the inscription on it.

“ ‘Light shines brightest in the dark.’ My mother’s way of saying people have their chance to really show what their made if when life is at it’s worst. ‘No experience is wasted if you know what to do with it’ she used to tell me.” She made a noise similar to a sigh as she fingered the inscription. “I suppose I could have shone a bit brighter myself these past few days.”

She smiled up at the Autobot leader. “Thank you for keeping it for me. Would you like to help me hang it up?”

Optimus Prime seemed to smile. Crystal wasn’t sure if it was in his optics or his voice, but she could tell.

“I would love to.”

“Great! I know just where to put it.”

A few minutes later, Optimus Prime was on his tip toes, fixing the chime to the lip of the Ark’s entrance. When he was done, the large hollow chimes hung over the entrance until a brisk November breeze blew in, causing the chimes to sing their song. Unlike their previous light, tinkling sound, now they made a low, calming bellow in the breeze.

“So, that is what that does,” Optimus said thoughtfully.

Crystal just nodded, hands behind her back as she watched the setting sun reflect off the metal and listened to the melody of the chimes.

Optimus did the same for a while, enjoying the new sound and the serenity of the moment.

“Optimus Prime,” Crystal asked. “I know you will give me an honest answer. Where is my body now?”

He turned his head to look at her. “Do you really want to know?”

“I just want to know if it still exists somewhere.”

“No, it is gone. Completely. If that bothers you, I apologize.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s a relief, really. I’ve been struggling with a mental image of my ruined bits of flesh haunting some lower level of your base to be honest. I’m glad you don’t still have it. I feel sorry for whomever had to deal with it.”

Optimus nodded. “The sentiment is appreciated. If you don’t mind me saying so, I sometimes forget how messy organic life can be.”

Crystal gave a slight, sad smile. “All life is messy. It’s what makes it life.”

Optimus turned thoughtful as he looked at the sky.

“I would like to say,” he said after a while, “that I commend you on the decision you made earlier and you are indeed correct in putting humanity before your own agenda.”

Crystal watched him. He said it with such a note of passion she had a feeling he knew all too well what it was like to make such decisions far deeper than she could conceive.

“This world,” Optimus continued as he gazed over the landscape, painted brilliant colors by the setting sun, “we sometimes forget how different it is than our own. It is shocking, sometimes even terrifying when it comes back to remind us.

“You live in a world of changes. Day and night, seasons, age. Everything around you is constantly beginning and ending. Every day life is born, it grows, then it dies. You have no idea how frightening that is for us. Our world never changes- we never change. One day we will see everything we have come to know here: the people we have met, the friends we have made, come to an end. We know it is your way, but we will never fully come to understand it.

“And now we have forced you into this life. Against all that you were born to do, you will cease to change. You will never grow old, you will never become all that you were meant to be. You will live to see many mortal lifetimes, maybe even the end of your own planet.” He paused with a profound sorrow in his voice. “And every day I pray you will forgive us for what we have done to you.”

Crystal watched the Autobot leader with a quiet reverence as he spoke to her. His words brought to light a part of him she had not been aware of before. She caught a glimpse of what she was sure was only a spec of how old he really was. In that moment, she felt an endless flow between them. She saw time in a straight line shoot deeply in the distance of the past, Optimus Prime’s past. To the future, the same straight line thrust itself further than could be seen. Always straight, never changing, never deviating no matter how far it went. And in the face of that, Crystal did feel a bit of fear.

* * *

It was night. The base was quiet and Prowl was alone in front of Teletran's systems. Without much else to do, he was using the computer's systems to go over all the evidence he had collected over the past week. He had even had the presence of mind to take pictures of his blood-splattered hood before he washed it off. It was a picture he didn't like to look at, but he had it. As well as a large collection of pictures from the entire scene as well as charts of estimated bullet trajectories and so forth.

It was the project that had occupied the whole of his thoughts for sometime now. And now that it had been decided there would be no action taken, he was having a hard time letting it go. There had to be a way. There must be something that he could do about this.

So consumed in his planning, Prowl didn't notice someone had been standing behind him for a few minutes. She watched quietly as he rifled through his evidence and research. Finally, Prowl froze when he realized he was not alone.

"That's quite a collection there," Crystal commented in the stark, silent room. "I'm sorry you were not able to use it."

"Give me some time," Prowl said. "I will figure something out."

"It's okay, Prowl, really. You don't have to."

"I do," he insisted, his fist clenched on the keyboard. "I was right there and I should have protected you. I should have done _something_ for you. All I did was act for myself. I--"

He paused when he felt her slim arms wrap around his neck from behind. Her face pressed into the side of his helm.

"Let it go, please," she whispered. "Do that for me. Let it go."

He sat there for several minutes. Crystal could feel the muscle cables in his body tighten with the stress of this decision.

"May I ask you something?" he then said.

"What?"

Prowl fiddled with a knob on the control panel. "Did you... wish to die? Really, did you think you would be better off?"

Crystal let go of him and sat herself down in the chair next to his. The chair was massive compared to her size and she easily pulled up her feet to curl up within it. She watched the black and white Autobot as if wary of what secrets he had discovered.

"You knew this might happen," Prowl continued as he watched her as well. "I think you were fully aware that you were dealing with dangerous men in New York. You didn't care if they came after you. You wanted them to, didn't you?"

She didn't respond, just sat there looking at him with those green optics in the pale light.

"Why?" Prowl asked.

There was a pregnant pause.

"Because I didn't have anything worth staying for. All the people I loved were gone and it was just me." She shifted in her chair. "I didn't mind living, but I wouldn't have minded leaving it either. I had no one worth staying for."

She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the arm rest. "But then you came, didn't you? And what was I supposed to do with you?"

Prowl's baby blue optics flickered. "I messed up your plans, did I?"

"You made me reconsider them. I had you now, but I wasn't sure what was to be done with you."

Prowl turned back to the controls, closing his research files and going back to basic monitor duty. "You still have me, whatever it is worth to you."

Crystal's expression softened into adoration, but she did not speak. The two lapsed in companionable silence. Hours passed as Prowl gave his attentions to his sentry duty before he noticed the time. Near morning, Ratchet walked in with a quiet "Ah ha" and stood over the chair Crystal still occupied.

Prowl glanced over as Ratchet scanned her motionless body with a small device.

"I finally caught her doing it," Ratchet whispered.

"Doing what?" Prowl asked in the same hushed tone, though he wasn't sure why either one of them were speaking that way.

"She's sleeping," Ratchet announced, putting his hands on his hips. "Her body systems are still running like normal, but she's out like a light. I have no idea how she's doing it or if it's even healthy for her."

He looked at Prowl. "If you really want to help her, you’ll get on Prime's back about transferring Perceptor down here. There's too much guess work going on. We need an expert."

"I can suggest it, but I can't make Prime agree," Prowl said, turning back to his screens.

"You don't fool me," Ratchet insisted. "If you want something bad enough, you'll find a way to get it."

Prowl paused. "I'll see what I can do."

Ratchet nodded. "That's all I could ask."

**Close File #004 Change- Optimus Prime**


	4. Family

**The Autobot Files**

**File #005 - Family**

It was the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday. The first storm of the winter season had hit with Oregon's infamous freezing rain, which left a dangerous layer of ice all over the roads. But the Witwicky's hardly worried about it. In that kind of weather, they knew an expert driver they could rely on to get them there safely to enjoy the craziest shopping day of the year.

"Why do they even have outside malls here?" Daniel grouched, slouching into his black trench coat. "Who wants to be outside in this weather? It's freezing."

"Oh come on, it's fun!" Clarissa insisted. Her large boots slid on the icy sidewalk with a certain talent that came from years of practice. "Besides, if we didn't go here, Bumblebee couldn't come with us."

Daniel kept any comments about that to himself. He always considered Bumblebee his father's friend. The yellow Autobot just had a personality that rubbed him wrong. Too happy to be considered cool. But for whatever reason, Clarissa adored Bumblebee after meeting him that Halloween night and would eagerly go where ever Daniel invited her if Bumblebee was driving. Daniel really liked Clarissa, so Bumblebee came.

His parents were also there, strolling arm in arm several paces behind them and trying to be sneaky about buying presents as if Daniel still believed in Santa Claus and didn’t know exactly what he was getting for Christmas.

"Hey!" Clarissa announced as she caught a glimpse of the frozen rink in the market square. "We should all go skating!"

Daniel frowned at the idea. Skating sounded lame.

"I don't think Daniel and I have ever done it. But I'll give it a try," Bumblebee said.

“You might break the ice,” Daniel warned.

Clarissa just laughed. “He can’t break it, it’s frozen solid.” She walked right up to Daniel, her face in his. “Is that true you’ve never skated?”

Daniel’s cheeks grew warm and he ducked his head away. “It’s not my thing.”

“That’s okay, I can teach you.”

“I don’t know if–“

”Hey!” Clarissa called to Daniel’s parents. “Do you mind if we go skating for a while?”

Carly tried hard to not chuckle as she noticed her son’s horrified face at the announcement. “That’s fine, we might join you later.”

Clarissa grabbed Daniel’s arm and dragged him down to the skating rink with Bumblebee in tow.

“Boy when that girl knows what she wants, she sure goes for it,” Carly then commented as the teens left.

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Spike ribbed her.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” she teased him back.

“I guess we Witwicky men just like strong women.”

“But can’t admit when they don’t know how to ice skate,” Carly grinned knowingly. “Are you going to let me teach you this year?”

Spike cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I can admit it. I’ve just never had the time to learn.”

“Great!” Carly said, tugging his arm. “We've got time now, let’s go!”

Spike’s expression mirrored his son’s perfectly as the teen was forced to rent skates and lace them up.

“You coming?” Clarissa called, already on the rink.

Daniel muttered that he was.

“Alright,” she grinned. “I’m going to take a quick warm up lap around the rink. I’ll be back for you, okay?”

Daniel allowed himself a deep frown when she finally left. He didn’t get much time to brood before Bumblebee approached him, looking a little conspicuous.

“Hey Daniel,” the yellow Autobot said in a hushed tone. “Do you know what you’re getting Clarissa for Christmas?”

A bit of teenage moodiness caused Daniel to frown at the insinuation that Bumblebee knew him enough to think he was going to get a present for her. But, in all actuality, he had been considering it so he let it go.

“Why?” he challenged.

“Because I keep seeing her look at this piece of jewelry. I took a picture of it.”

On a small screen on his wrist, Bumblebee showed him the picture he took. Daniel scrunched his nose at it.

“A butterfly pendant?” Daniel demanded. “She’s not into that kind of thing. Look at her. She must have been looking at something else.”

“I don’t know,” Bumblebee replied. “She went back to it at least twice and I could see her line of vision went right to this.”

Daniel shook his head and awkwardly made his way toward the rink on his rental skates. Clarissa gracefully skated up to him, her breath clouding in the cool air.

“Ready?”

Daniel looked like he would rather be anywhere else, but Bumblebee happily picked him up by the collar and stepped into the rink. The Autobot had wide feet with tire treads that gave him perfect traction on the ice. Daniel, however, had to cling to Bumblebee’s arm or else he would fall right on his backside. At the moment, he couldn’t think which one was more embarrassing.

“Come on, take my hand,” Clarissa urged.

Daniel looked at her with wide eyes, still clinging to Bumblebee’s arm.

“Come on, it’s easier when you start moving, I promise.”

Daniel finally relented and gave both his hands to hers. She smoothly skated backwards, pulling him with her as he tried to stay up.

“I feel so stupid doing this,” he admitted after a while.

“Don’t be, you’re doing great! A lot better than my first time. I totally thought I was all that when I was learning and skidded right on my face!”

Daniel managed to chuckle and immediately lost his balance and slipped, pulling Clarissa down with him. He was immediately mortified, but Clarissa started laughing as she sat on the ice.

“See? This is fun!”

Daniel actually managed a smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

Clarissa shook her head at him. “You just can’t stand to admit when you’re having fun, can you?”

Daniel slumped guiltily.

“It’s okay. She hit him lightly with her shoulder. “I can tell without you saying anything. Though I have to say,” she continued as she go back on her feet, “that Bumblebee is possibly having a lot more fun that we are.”

As Daniel let her help him up, he saw that several pretty young woman had gathered around the Autobot and were all flirting with him.

“I’d be jealous if I didn’t have you,” she grinned, hugging his arm.

Daniel felt his cheeks grow warm again, but this time he didn’t fall down.

* * *

When it was time to go, Bumblebee approached the two teens as they were returning their skates.

“Here Clarissa, I got something for you,” the yellow Autobot said as he handed her a small bag. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.”

The teen looked delighted. “For me? Thank you!”

As she looked into the bag, Daniel gave him a very fierce ‘no you didn’t’ look. Bumblebee just smiled and shrugged.

“It’s that butterfly pendant I wanted!” Clarissa exclaimed with glee. “It reminded me of my mom. She had one just like this. Thank you Bee!”

“Actually, it was Daniel’s idea,” Bumblebee insisted. “He was just too shy to give it to you.”

“Really?” she turned and squealed at Daniel.

Before he could respond, she had already jumped on him, hugging him around the neck.

A safe distance away, Spike and Carly saw the whole thing with much amusement.

“Look at Bumblebee, playing match maker,” Spike chuckled. “He thinks he’s so smooth.”

“Well he’s had a bit of practice,” Carly said. “He’s the reason I started dating you.”

Spike’s jaw fell open. “Now, wait a minute! Are you saying you wouldn’t have been interested in me if I wasn’t friends with an Autobot?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Carly nodded without apology. “Face it, Spike, you were a bit awkward then and I was definitely out of your league.”

“So what then? You married me for my Autobot?”

“No,” his wife insisted as she snuggled up to his arm. “I married you for you. The Autobot just brought you to my attention.”

The look on Spike’s face told he was still trying to decide whether or not that was a compliment.

“Spike, Carly,” Bumblebee greeted. “We can go ahead, Daniel says he’ll catch up.”

Carly shook her head at him. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do. One of these days, that trick isn’t going to work on every girl you use it on.”

Bumblebee grinned. “It worked on you, didn’t it?”

This time, it was Carly’s turn to look offended as her husband laughed.

“Now wait just a minute!”

As the two broke into good-natured banter, Bumblebee followed behind them with a smile on his face. On Cybertron, there was a concept of family that vaguely existed among his kind. But it was never anything like what he experienced here on Earth. Human family members were bonded deeper than any Cybertronian could comprehend. By blood, by genes, by the soul, and by love.

Bumblebee may not have had many of these things in common with the Witwickys, but the bond was still there. All of them together were family and if one of them were missing, the family felt incomplete.

Optimus Prime had one told him, many years ago on Cybertron, that if you fight to protect cities or even planets you are bound to lose. But if you were fighting to protect life, those that you loved, nothing would be able to stop you. And maybe, Bumblebee realized, maybe the lives on his home planet were not the lives he was meant to fight for. These were.

These people he had met who loved him and invited him into their lives. These people were his family and they would always have him as a protector for their children and the children of their children. Until time rendered them obsolete, he would stay and never look to the stars, wishing for home again. His home and his family were here.

**Close File #005 - Family**


	5. Kind

**The Autobot Files**

**File #006 - Kind**

Sunstreaker glanced over suspiciously when a smaller body sat herself down at the table next to him. She smiled with bright green optics while he looked her over dubiously, doubtful of what she wanted.

"Sunstreaker," she announced brightly.

"Yeah..." he replied guardedly. "What of it?"

"I remember you," she said with pride. "You saved my life. I wanted to thank you."

Sunstreaker turned his gaze away as if embarrassed to be talking with her.

"A lot of good it did either of us. I got stuck in the shop for a week and you, well...” He glanced up and down at her to indicate her current situation before looking away again.

"Ha, yeah," Crystal laughed uncomfortably. She was getting a distinct feeling that the yellow Autobot didn't want her there. "I'm really sorry you got hurt—both times."

Sunstreaker didn't look too grateful for the apology.

"Yes, well, excuse me now, I was having a conversation with my..." He turned and Sideswipe, who he had been talking with before Crystal interrupted, was completely gone.

"What the?" He looked all around the rec room and couldn't see his brother anywhere.

"Um...." Crystal whispered. "Who were you talking to?"

It was obvious she hadn't noticed Sideswipe at all when she came in. Now she thought Sunstreaker was crazy and talking to invisible Autobots. That made him mad. How dare Sideswipe bail in the middle of their conversation!

Not that they had been talking about important matters to begin with. It was mostly idle sibling chit chat such as why yellow was superior to red and what weapon would you use for which Decepticon and if there was only one femme left on Cybertron, but she looked like Huffer, would you still hit that?

But Sideswipe had disappeared, making Sunstreaker look like an idiot in front of this stranger. If anyone was to look stupid, it should have been that human turned robot freak with the mismatched pink paint and no alt mode, not him. Retribution was called for.

"I have to go," was all Sunstreaker said as he quickly left to proceed with a red Lamborghini hunt.

Crystal was left by herself, feeling awkward and alone. She looked around the quiet, empty rec room until she noticed it was not so empty after all.

On the other side sat a grey Autobot that had a very similar design to Prowl's. He looked up at her and she gave a small wave. The grey Autobot gave a surprised expression and glanced around, wondering who she was waving at. When he realized it was him, he looked even more self-conscious than before. He timidly waved back. Then he tried to appear as though he had something important to do and he fled the rec room.

Crystal was left alone again. But in a way, it made her feel a bit better to know she wasn't the only one feeling awkward about the whole situation. It seemed even a few of the Autobots were more scared of her than she was of them. Knowing that she wasn't the only one trying to cope was comforting and made her a bit more hopeful for the future. Maybe next time they would stay with her just a little bit longer.

* * *

"Ratchet," Sideswipe groaned as he trudged into the med bay. "I don't feel well."

Ratchet looked at him suspiciously. Very few Autobots came in to see him for anything short of serious battle wounds save Tracks or Sunstreaker who would try to bribe him for tune ups or paint jobs. Any other work, Ratchet had to practically bully his patients to show up for appointments. That even included Optimus Prime and certainly Sideswipe.

For him to just walk in with a small complaint was not like him and made Ratchet suspicious that he was up to something.

"What's wrong, Sideswipe?" he asked carefully.

The red Autobot hopped onto the table and lay down on his back without any invitation.

"I just don't feel well," he told the ceiling. "In my tanks, my joints... even my tires don't feel right. Something's wrong inside of me."

That was something new. Ratchet managed to raise an optic ridge in curiosity. He opened the red Autobot's hood and looked around. Everything looked completely in tact.

"Physical complaints without physical damage. That's a very unique complaint, Sideswipe."

"I can't help it. That's how I feel."

"I still don't see anything physically wrong. I'm going to run a system diagnostic.”

"Okay," Sideswipe sighed in a melancholy manner.

The usually animated and active Autobot lay there listlessly while Ratchet plugged a couple different devices into his systems to check his programs and coding. Sideswipe yelped in surprise when Ratchet inserted and uploaded something he was not expecting.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"Your virus upgrade booster," Ratchet informed him. "I told everyone to get it over a month ago. You and your brother both have yet to come in and see me about it."

"You could have at least warned me," Sideswipe whined.

Ratchet offered no apology. "You had your chance to do it your way, now you have to do it my way. Next time, come in with everyone else."

After that, Sideswipe shifted into silent brooding, but didn't leave the med bay for a while, even though Ratchet never could find the source of his ailment.

* * *

The December morning was bright and clear. It had snowed again the night before, leaving everything freshly covered in a new layer of untouched white. Crystal hovered around the mouth of the Ark's main entrance, standing in the drifts that were blown inside, but not venturing out. It was a crisp, cold day with clear skies. Crystal knew it was cold outside, her body told her so, but not in the way her human body would tell her. This metal form knew the temperature was low, but it didn't bother her any. She didn't shiver, nor did she feel any discomfort, she just knew it was cold.

December. It had been over a month since her normal body had died. That was how she thought of it, her normal body. Now she was in this abnormal body in this very abnormal situation. A situation that was permanent. She knew it was, but the permanence hadn't sunk in yet. She still had a strange way of thinking about the future as something that would be different than what she was now. But in the back of her mind, she knew better. This was the end of her road. There was no change after this. As Optimus Prime had put in perspective to her, this was the way she would be now and forever, however long forever would be.

As she looked over the snow covered world, she became aware of the feeling of someone standing behind her, watching, and she glanced back. It was that dark green Autobot. She had met him briefly before. The short conversation she had with him came to mind as clear as if it had just happened. Crystal found it a bit curious that she remembered his name so clearly. She was usually so bad with names.

"Hound, right?" she greeted.

"That's me," the green Autobot confirmed as he came closer. He seemed quite happy that she was inviting him to talk to her. "Admiring the new snow?"

"Yes, a bit," Crystal said as she returned her gaze to the landscape. "But also just thinking."

Hound nodded. "Yes, it's very easy to think when everything is so quiet. I love the morning after a good snow storm. Everything looks clean and clear and the sounds are always distant. Like how the fresh snow has the ability to swallow up all the noise and just leave the beauty."

Crystal smiled at his passion. The wind chime hanging above them played a few notes for them.

"Like the snow, do you?"

"Oh, I like all the seasons," Hound assured her. "Each one seems to have its own set of rules and sounds and colors. Just when you get used to one, the next one comes in to take its place. There's always something new around the corner."

Crystal nodded, she hadn't really thought of it like that. But then again, having lived with seasons her whole life, she was sure she took them for granted just as she had taken living as a human for granted until now.

"Do you...want to come out with me?" Hound asked, looking hopeful.

"Um..." Crystal glanced indecisively from the snow to the hall. She didn't like going outside much. When she did, she stayed close to the side of the volcano and didn't stay out too long. Maybe it was because she didn't want the world—her world—to see what she had become. She wasn't sure. But it wasn't something she could change. She knew she needed to start forcing herself to deal with it more. She needed to move on.

"Yeah," she finally decided. "Maybe for a little bit."

Hound looked delighted and stepped over the snow first before offering her a hand. Crystal was glad to have it. His large, steady treads were far better suited for traipsing around in the snow than her small, slippery feet. She had tried not to be so clingy when she went walking about, but this time, she didn't have much of a choice. In the base, she didn't have much opportunity to practice her motor skills in the first place. Out here among the snow drifts and the boulders and fallen trees all buried in snow, she wasn't doing the best job of walking around and was forced to grab onto Hound's arm for support.

"Sorry to keep hanging into you. I guess my balance isn't all that great," she admitted lamely. "I should probably get out more or something."

"Not at all," Hound insisted and looked very much like he meant it. He seemed to be enjoying himself despite it all. "I'm steady enough for the both of us. I don't mind one bit."

Crystal offered him a grateful smile before she slipped again. They rounded the volcano, Hound taking the easiest way he could find. Half way around, he let her take a break, just to stand and look around.

"Over there is the forest," Hound pointed to the group of trees in the distance. "Probably not the best place to go right now, but I spend a lot of time there when the snow melts. I'll take you out there sometime if you want."

Crystal gazed over at it. She would no doubt have to walk. All the other Autobots could drive there. Well, most of them could. Poor Blaster seemed to be the exception. Maybe she could persuade him to walk with her. Maybe they could have some kind of...picnic or something. Could those energon cube things be taken on a picnic?

"I think that would be fun," she said.

Hound smiled in satisfaction. It had not gone unnoticed by Crystal that he seemed to have a different kind of interest in her than the other Autobots did. When he looked at her, he seemed to be watching her with a specific curiosity, maybe even fascination. Though what exactly sparked his interest in her in the first place, Crystal couldn't say until he started asking her questions.

"What do you miss the most?" Hound asked out of the blue as he watched a large flock of small birds fly by. "About being human? What do you miss the most?"

For a while, Crystal had a blank look on her face. She hadn't missed anything so far. She wasn't really thinking in those terms. All her thoughts were the things she couldn't do in the future: never drive her car again or go back to her apartment. Never go to a movie theater or walk through the park. But they weren't things she necessarily missed. She didn't really miss anything, until she thought about it.

"I miss my hair," she sighed. "Flinging it around when I rock out to really good music. And warm socks, and hot chocolate. I miss seeing my breath on a cold day. I miss...painting my toenails and wearing that perfect pair of jeans. I miss soft pajamas and snuggling up in bed with too many blankets." She drifted off for a moment as she gazed over the silent landscape. She pressed her lips together as emotion began to come up. The next thing she said came out as almost a whisper. "I miss being able to cry."

* * *

"Ratchet, I don't feel so well."

For the second time that day, Ratchet looked up at the strange complaint and found not Sideswipe, but Sunstreaker stumbling into the his med bay. Even more so than the first time, Ratchet was suspicious of what was going on. Before, no matter how much Sideswipe complained, Ratchet could not find anything wrong with him. Test after test without result. Ultimately, he let Sideswipe just lay there for a while and then kicked him out. It was a lot of time wasted in his opinion and he certainly wasn't up to doing the whole dance again.

"Sunstreaker, if the two of you are playing some kind of joke by tag-teaming my med bay I really—"

He stopped when he looked up at the yellow Lamborghini. The seasoned medic could tell right away that something was wrong.

"Really," Sunstreaker insisted as he swayed on his feet. "I...don't feel..."

Ratchet barely managed to catch him before he collapsed on the floor.

* * *

"Do you mind if I’m frank with you, Hound?"

The green Autobot looked intrigued. "I would love for you to be."

"You keep asking me what its like to be human. Do you...want to be one?"

Hound looked thoughtful and then chuckled. "To be human...now wouldn't that be something."

They had resumed their walk around the large base of Mt. Saint Hilary. Crystal was doing a much better job keeping her balance, but was still holding onto Hound's arm just in case.

"I'm not really sure myself," Hound admitted. "Just curious how the other half lives, I suppose. Ever since I woke up here, I've felt an attachment to this place—to this planet. But as much as I wish it, I don't think I'll ever truly become a part of it. So instead, I want to learn. Maybe get a small idea to what it's like." He smiled at her. "Maybe live a bit vicariously through others who don't mind putting up with my questions."

"Not at all," Crystal insisted. "And if it's any consolation to you, we humans often don't feel like we know where we belong either. I think it's common no matter what planet you are on."

By then, they had made it all the way around and back to the Ark's entrance.

"Thanks for letting me cling to you, Hound," Crystal said sheepishly. "I promise I'll do better next time."

Hound chuckled. "Thank YOU for answering all my nosy questions. I am sorry if any of them upset you."

Crystal shook her head. "I enjoyed talking to you."

"And I wouldn't mind a next time, too," Hound agreed.

"It's a date then," Crystal beamed. "When the snow melts I would love to see the forest."

She decided she liked Hound. His voice was sweet and calm and he seemed to lack the edge she felt in many of the Autobots she knew, including Prowl and Jazz. She wasn't really sure what were favored attributes among Autobots, but she found Hound to be absolutely endearing.

There was a heavy rumble coming from outside heading in. A large, metal Tyrannosaur tromped in from the area of the forest. His metal skin was powdered with melting snow knocked from the tree tops.

Crystal was definitely are more excited to see the massive, lumbering beast than Hound was.

"Hi Grimlock!"

This was the first time since her life had changed that she had seen him. She had been starting to think he wasn't at the base at all. Crystal had kind of missed him, but seeing the Dinobot leader at full size reminded her she missed the novelty of carrying around a small talking lizard. She never had the chance to appreciate what Grimlock truly was on a full scale.

"Look at you!" she gaped in front of him with wide optics. "I'm a giant robot and you're still humongous!"

Indeed, the Dinobot towered far above her and growled deep in his throat.

"Who you?" he demanded.

"Me?" she wondered, surprised by his question. "I'm Crystal. Don't you remember me?"

Grimlock reared back as if offended and then turned his head from side to side like a bird, trying to get a good look at her. Then he bent his massive head down to her level and nudged her with his snout. There was still the growl in his voice when he spoke.

"You no Crystal! You no look like her! You trick!" He started getting mad. "Autobots play joke! Try to trick me Grimlock! Make me look stupid! Me Grimlock say Autobots stupid!"

He stomped his massive feet in anger and Hound stepped forward protectively, but Crystal waved him down.

"Grimlock, hush," she said in that soft, but commanding voice.

Grimlock instantly stopped his tirade and was silent.

"Grimlock, sit."

He obediently sat and Hound stared in amazement.

"Now," Crystal said as she walked up to him. Reaching up, she scratched at the line of yellow paint around his neck and spoke to him in a tone similar to how one would speak to a dog.

"Who's my good boy?" she cooed. "That's you, yes. That's my good boy."

By reflex alone, Grimlock stretched his neck to give her better access as his back foot kicked by itself.

Crystal scratched him under the chin. "Grimmy loves that, doesn't he?"

"What you Grimlock doing?" demanded a new, rough voice.

"Act funny..." accused a softer one.

Crystal stood back and found that she was surrounded by four other curious dinosaur faces.

"There are more of you," she said in awe.

The stegosaurus, with his head close to the ground, sniffed at her calf. She crouched down to be closer to his level.

"Hey there, what's your name?"

Snarl growled at her and backed away, spiny tail lashing.

Crystal backed away as well, right into the solid, less spiny body of Sludge. The brontosaurus looked her over slowly as he spoke.

"What you?" he asked in a non aggressive tone. "Not Autobot...not Decepticon...”

"Not Dinobot either!" Swoop accused from Sludge's back.

"If Slag not know,” the triceratops snarled. "Then Slag fight!"

Hound, again, moved to pull Crystal out of the way of the Dinobots. At the same time, Grimlock swatted Slag in the face with his tail before he could advance further.

"Me Grimlock say Dinobots not fight anything but Decepticons unless me Grimlock say so!" He pointed his small dinosaur hand in Crystal's direction. "Not Decepticon so no fight. And it small, not worth Dinobot's time."

That seemed to satisfy all of them and they thundered off to parts unknown. Crystal watched them go, looking deflated.

"He blew me off," she complained. "And he said I wasn't worth his time."

"Most of us fall into that category as far as the Dinobots are concerned," Hound assured her as he patted her shoulder. "They're also a lot harder to talk to if they're all in a group like that."

"I guess..." Crystal said with slumped shoulders.

"It may be best to stay way from them at least when they're riled up," Hound said. "They can mess any one of us up good if they wanted to. You, all they would have to do is stumble into you and you could received some serious damage."

Crystal frowned at the reminder that her body was so frail. She was really starting to get annoyed with that.

As soon as she had time to herself she went down to see Ratchet. There had to be something that could be done. Her old body wasn't so breakable compared to human standards. She wasn't a huge body builder, but she had always been fit and healthy. She used to complete in boxing matches for crying out loud. Being in this feeble form was not acceptable and she was all pumped to tell Ratchet so.

Except, when she went into the repair bay, he was nowhere to be found.

"Ratchet?"

No response.

Then Crystal felt stupid. Of course Ratchet's whole life didn't evolve around the med bay. The poor guy was probably taking a much needed break. He couldn't be expected to be in there every second of every—

"Oh, you are here, Ratchet."

There was a door in the back of the bay Crystal never noticed before. Mostly because it practically looked like part of the wall until that red light above it turned on. It slid open and Ratchet walked out.

"And what can I do for you now?" Ratchet greeted.

Crystal found herself overrun with curiosity over what was through the open door. She could see a second door with a small window, but what was behind that?

"Um...I came to...talk to you about maybe...fixing up...fixing up my body a bit so...so I..."

Ratchet blocked the door with his body so it wouldn't distract her. Crystal snapped back to attention.

"I'm tired of being so fragile, Ratchet! I was a healthy, non-feeble person before I died. Now I'm like some living china doll. It sucks! Isn't there anything that can be done?"

Ratchet looked tired. "Stronger parts can always be put in but for your body, that would be quite a feat. We're talking about practically replacing everything. It would be more practical to build you a new body altogether."

Worry crossed her face. "Is that possible?"

Ratchet forced a smile. He didn't like to see her worry. "It is possible. With time, we could build a better one for you."

"And put me in it? Is that dangerous to switch bodies like that?"

"Not at all," Ratchet insisted. "The hard part was putting you in that one. Anything after that is like transferring files. Completely safe and easy." He continued quickly before Crystal could ask anything else. "But we'll have to continue this later, I have something more pressing to worry about right now. Sunstreaker came down with a virus. I had to put him in quarantine." He motioned to the door with the red light.

"Now Prowl is trying to block and delete al messages Sunstreaker may have sent to anyone in the past forty-eight hours. And I'm going to have to confine all the Autobots Sunstreaker has been in close contact with to their quarters and give them a check up so this thing doesn't spread. That's going to be Sideswipe, Tracks, and...well, Sideswipe and Tracks. But it's going to be messy. Viruses like this are highly contagious."

Crystal glanced again towards the door. "Can I get it?"

Ratchet looked up from packing his tools. "You? No. Your system isn't complex enough to contract it from someone wirelessly. You would have to transfer a file through a physical cable connection to get it from an infected bot. You'll be fine. The rest of us have to be careful."

"Including you, Ratchet?"

The medic growled. "I better not get it or I'll kick Sunstreaker's can to the moon."

"So..." Crystal looked at the quarantine door. "He's just going to be in there by himself?"

"No choice," Ratchet said. "It will work through his system on it's own and he has to stay in there until it's done. Right now I have to go make sure no one else gets it."

Crystal watched Ratchet pick up his medical kit and hurry out of the bay. It didn't take her long to return her optics back to the quarantine door. Carefully, she approached and pushed the small button at the side of the door. She jumped when the door beeped and slid open. But other than that, nothing happened. There was a second door inside with a small window.

She stood on her toes to peer inside. It was a small room with one medical table in the middle. On that table lay the golden form of Sunstreaker. He was motionless for the most part. Every once in a while he would turn his head or shift in discomfort. Crystal wasn't sure what the signs of a sick Autobot were exactly, but in her opinion, he didn't look healthy.

After pushing the button on the second door, both slid shut behind her. Crystal stood silently for a moment. Ratchet said she wouldn't be able to contract the virus from him while everyone else could. That's why he had been left alone in this room and that didn't seem right. No one should be left all alone when they were feeling so horrible. There had to be something she could do for him.

She skirted around the edge of the room, taking it and the patient in from all angles. She noticed there was a bucket set next to the table and Sunstreaker had a cloth in his hands. He seemed oblivious to her presence and she dared to come closer. Her optics traveled over the golden body. He was tall and lanky, unlike most of the other Autobots she had met. Crystal hovered her hand over his chest and she could feel an unusual heat coming from the body. A fever. She never knew robots could get them, but this one definitely had it.

Slowly, gently, she lowered her head to his chest to listen. There was that same pulsating rumbling she remembered hearing in Blaster's chest her first night in the Ark. She moved lower and she could hear an uneven putter of an unhealthy system working too hard and overheating the body in which it was housed. Crystal looked up at his face scrunched in that familiar expression of being absolutely miserable.

She reached out and lightly brushed his cheek. The metal skin was damp with condensation from the fever. Sunstreaker's optics flickered dimly on at the touch.

"What are you doing here?" he muttered weakly.

Crystal took the damp cloth out of his hand. "I'm just going to take care of you for a little bit. Don't worry, just rest."

She grabbed the small bucket and went over to a faucet that was in the room and turned it on. The liquid that came out of it was clear, but Crystal wasn't entirely sure it was water. Behind her, there was a hiss of air through a vent. It almost sounded like Sunstreaker let out an aggravated sigh.

When she returned, she dipped the cloth in the water and pressed it to Sunstreaker's forehead. It seemed like the natural thing to do, but Crystal had to remind herself these were robots, not people. She had to keep herself open to the possibility of different ways to make the patient comfortable. So far, he seemed okay with the treatment until she dabbed at the side of his face and he turned his head in discomfort.

"Vents," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Crystal asked.

"Vents...on my head. Don't cover them up," Sunstreaker said. "They let the heat out."

Crystal pulled back her hand and noticed the yellow and black fins on the sides of his head were indeed vents. They hissed as hot air filtered out of them in a huff. She looked down his body, but didn't see any more of those to help monitor his body temperature.

"Is your temperature too high?" she asked. "Do you want me to open your chest panel? Will that help you cool down?"

"Yeah," Sunstreaker replied weakly. "Try that."

Crystal fingered the seams on his chest. She had picked up a thing or two from being in the med bay and soon found the latch to release the chest plate. Heat rushed out of the exposed engine as the panel flipped up. Crystal did her best to wave it away.

"Wow, that's pretty hot."

Sunstreaker managed a small grin. "Yeah, that's what they usually say about me."

Crystal didn't pay much attention to the comment. "Do you want me to put some of this on it?" She motioned to the bucket.

"Nng...try a little bit..."

Crystal dipped the cloth into the liquid and held it over the exposed mechanical parts. She squeezed it and let the droplets run over the overheated metal. The liquid hissed and instantly turned to steam when it came contact. Sunstreaker groaned and gripped the table as she did it again.

She watched his face as his center cooled. It seemed to relieve the yellow Autobot's discomfort a bit. After a while, his body shuttered as if it were cold.

"That's good," he told her.

Crystal gently pressed the plating back in place. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Sunstreaker sighed through his vents again. "No, there's really nothing else to do but wait and let it do its thing."

"I see." Crystal hopped up on the table. "Then I will wait with you." She sat cross-legged and lifted Sunstreaker's head to set it in her lap.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked tiredly.

"I can't just leave you here alone on a table in this empty room. You have done so much for me so I'm going to do this for you."

Sunstreaker flipped off his optics again. He was too sick and tired to argue. Crystal dabbed at his face and neck with the damp cloth, careful to stay free of his vents. Sunstreaker eventually relaxed against her touch which was a pleasant distraction from his fever. Even though he would never admit that out loud.

Crystal watched over him while he rested, daring to touch him while he was weak. She was completely aware she was taking advantage of the Autobot's sickness to satisfy her own curiosity. Her fingers ghosted over the bridge of his nose and the smooth planes of his cheeks. She skipped over the mouth and moved down to lightly touch the Autobot symbol on his chest. She had one, too, on her chest right below her neck. It was small, but she never asked for one. She could see it a little bit when she looked down.

She traced the red lines of his symbol and let her fingers glide over the yellow paint of his chest. If she pressed her hand flat against his insignia, she could feel the rhythmic thrumming again. It reminded her of something between the sound of a washing machine and a heart beat.

In his lower chest, she felt the rumble of a motor. It puttered sporadically, not sounding well. She rubbed her hand around his lower chest to see if she could feel it better. Sunstreaker's engine rumbled pleasantly in response.

Crystal paused and the noise died down. Experimentally, she rubbed his chest again and leaned forward to listen. The rumble started up again. It sounded far more like a pleasant sound than a sickly sound. Interesting.

Her hand went back to rubbing the bridge of his nose and forehead. Sunstreaker scrunched his face and groaned and shifted in discomfort again. Crystal felt for him. Poor Autobot. He was very sick. As she tried to sooth his anguish with her touches, she felt sound come to her throat and she did something she hadn’t done in a long time. To her, it almost felt like a life time ago.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” she sang softly. “You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Outside the room, Sideswipe peered out the small window at them. Crystal's back was to him so she never noticed she was being watched and Sideswipe never indicated he was there.

She did, however, hear Ratchet knocking on the door later that day and carefully extricated himself to go see what he wanted.

"How's he doing?" Ratchet asked as she came out.

"He's sleeping, or, recharging. Or whatever it is you guys do."

He gave her an appreciative nod and handed her an energon cube. "See if you can get him to drink some of this."

"So you're taking care of Sunstreaker, are you?" Ironhide, who was also in the med bay, chuckled. He had been helping Ratchet make sure none of their internal systems had any remnants of Sunstreaker's virus on it. "He doesn't even like you. Ya bruised his pride all those months ago when ya forgot him. That fragger don't forgive something like that easily."

"That's okay," Crystal shrugged. "I like him. I think he's a very kind person."

Ratchet and Ironhide snorted in unison.

"Kind?" Ironhide demanded.

"Sunstreaker?" Ratchet asked.

"Not the word I would used to describe that one," Ironhide said. "He's more like angry."

"Or vain," Ratchet continued.

Crystal smiled at them. "That's okay, you can think of him how you want. I think he is very kind and I'm going to stay with him a little longer. I will see you both later."

Ironhide frowned as both quarantine doors slid shut behind her.

"Lucky fragger gets females lookin' after him even when he's bein' a complete aft. I tell ya Ratchet, if Primus had pinned daisies to my bumper and given me that life, I sure as hell wouldn't be sulking as much as that one does."

Ratchet patted his shoulder. "Not to worry, Primus still punishes us all in His own way. He has Sideswipe, don't forget."

Ironhide's frown turned into a smirk. "So if we got rid 'a Sideswipe, the kid'll be dancing on rainbows? I don't know about that."

Ratchet smiled cryptically. "That's why I said we're all punished in mysterious ways."

* * *

“Jazz,” Crystal called when she walked into the control room. “I want to try something on you.”

Jazz looked at her with a grin. Any distraction from monitor duty was a good one. And in the history of his long life, Jazz had never said no to a female who wanted to try something on him.

“Sure!”

“Okay.” Crystal grabbed his shoulders and turned him in the direction of the screens. “Now just sit there, while I try this.”

She started with her hands on his shoulders and then worked her way down his back. She moved her fingers under his canopy as if searching for something.

“Wh–what are you doing?” Jazz asked, sitting stiffly.

“Sh-h-h!” Crystal insisted, her audio close to his back. “I’m listening.”

Her hands traveled back up and over his chest. Her finger tips scraped lightly at the paint and she rubbed them over the white four and Autobot symbol on his chest, searching for a certain sound. There it was. That happy rumble from deep in his chest.

When Brawn and Prowl walked in, Jazz was blissfully limp in his chair as Crystal was still rubbing his chest with her audios on his shoulder.

“What are you two doing?” Brawn demanded, sounding offended by the scene and certainly directing most of the question at Jazz.

Jazz, however, just rolled his head in their direction with a stupid grin on his face. His ability to answer seemed to have been momentarily taken away from him.

“Jazz is purring,” Crystal squealed. “It’s so cute! I tried doing it with Blaster, but he doesn’t make that same noise. I think it’s because he doesn’t have that car engine in there. He kept insisting I try some more, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to happen.”

The grin fell from Jazz’s face even though the strength hadn’t returned to his limbs yet.

“Just exactly where did he tell you to touch him?”

“Woah, woah! Let’s just stop right there!” Brawn shouted. “We didn’t come in here for a play by play.”

Crystal looked at him and Prowl as if noticing them for the first time. “Why are you here?”

Brawn just pulled her out of the room by her arm with Prowl following after.

“Call me,” Jazz said as they left.

"So, what’s going on?" Crystal asked.

Brawn still had a hold of her as he guided them down the hall with Prowl bringing up the rear.

"We've got something for you," Brawn said.

"For me? Aww..."

"Don't get too mushy on me, Princess. It's not that big of a deal."

Crystal smiled at him anyway and glanced back at Prowl to see what he thought of it. As usual, the second-in-command betrayed nothing on his face.

"Here it is," Brawn said, coming to a modest sized door. He pushed a button and it slid open, revealing a small room inside.

"This is yours," he explained. "It's just a supply closet that we cleaned out and fixed up, but it's better than nothing." He walked inside "See, this folds down into a cot and you can fold it back up. It also locks from the inside to keep out the riff-raff. I know it's not much, but—"

"I love it," Crystal cut him off with gratitude written all over her face. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well," Brawn scratched at the back of his head in discomfort over the attention. "It ain't right to make you live in the lab with nothing else to do but feeling up our sentries. Femmes need their privacy." He gave her a knowing smile. "You know, some place where you feel it's yours and it's okay to be."

"You're so sweet," Crystal cooed, coming at him with arms open. "I'm going to hug you now."

Brawn's optics went wide. "Uh, no, you don't have to do that. I was just—" she was already hugging him. "Yeah, okay." He accepted his fate and let her keep her arms around him as long as she wanted.

"I'm glad you like it. I gotta get back to work now." Brawn said the second she let go and retreated out of the room. "But, uh, if you need anything, you can call me." He quickly added before he left.

"I love him," Crystal grinned after he had left. "Brawn is the best."

"He is," Prowl agreed. "Looking after others seems to be a second nature for him."

"I think one could say the same for you as well." Crystal smiled as she grabbed his hand and pulled him in. "So this is now me, I guess. This is home."

"This is your room," Prowl corrected gently. "The Ark is your home."

"Right, right," Crystal nodded. "Home is where the people you care about are."

It didn't escape Prowl that there was a bit of a sadness in her tone when she said that. "Is that a problem?"

Crystal's smile reflected her melancholy. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm still a bit depressed that the only ones I care about do live here, you know what I mean?"

Prowl nodded. She left her world with no family ties and no close human friends to miss. As she had told him before, they were all she had now.

"Understood. And likewise, if you need anything, you tell me and I will make it happen."

There was authority behind that statement and it caught Crystal's attention. She watched his face, trying to read it. Her hands had remained on his the entire time. His thumb lightly rubbed the back of her hand. She looked down when she noticed him doing that and then back up when his free hand touched her cheek.

On his face was the same expression of curiosity that was on her face several times when exploring this new world herself. The tip of his index finger traveled slowly down her cheek. It lingered lower, close to her mouth before Prowl turned his head as if he had heard something and stepped away from her.

"I have to get back on duty. I will come see you again."

"Yeah, you better," Crystal shot back playfully. "Now that I have a permanent residence there's no excuse."

Prowl managed to give her a tight smile before retreating from the room. And it did feel like a retreat. He had left rather hastily, but she didn't have time to think on it long when a new face popped in.

"Oh hey, you're all better," she greeted.

"Yeah, I'm better," Sunstreaker said as he walked in to the room without invitation. He looked the tiny space over dubiously. "So this is where they're putting you, huh?"

"Yup," Crystal shrugged. "This is me."

It felt a bit overwhelming to have the lanky yellow Autobot in her new quarters. He was so tall and there was something about his aura that took up even more space than just his physical form.

Sunstreaker didn't notice she had taken a step back to give him more room. He made himself at home as he sat on her cot, folded his hands behind his head and stretched his legs. If he slumped low enough he could touch the opposite wall with his feet.

"Yeah, this is good," he said. "I like it. It's snug."

"Glad you approve," came the amused response.

Sunstreaker studied his feet for a moment.

"I heard what you said about me in the med bay. I have to agree with those guys. I'm not a nice guy."

"I didn't say you were nice. I said you were kind. There is a difference."

Sunstreaker gave her an angry but confused look.

"What the slag is the difference?!" he demanded.

Crystal sat next to him. "Nice people can be nice to you all day long. They can smile at you and ask how your day has been, but they don't really care. Kind people may yell at you sometimes, but they're there when you need them. And they'll put their life on the line for you even if you completely forget they did it once for you already."

Sunstreaker gave a sideways smirk. "I see. That's alright with me, then." He frowned as a new thought hit him. "Just don't teach my brother that song you sang, okay?"

Crystal tipped her head at him. "You have a brother?"

"Yeah, Sideswipe. Tall, red Autobot? Looks a bit like me?"

She shook her head. "I don't think I've seen him around."

Sunstreaker expressed mild surprise. "Huh. He's usually up in everyone's business. I thought he'd be bugging you with all sorts of stupid stuff by now. I'll have to bring him down sometime."

"I would love to meet him."

"You know," he said as he shifted to get more comfortable. "The first time you met me, you said I was the most gorgeous thing you had ever seen."

"Did I?" Crystal smiled.

"Of course I was in my sleek, sexy auto mode at the time..."

"Well, you're also very cute this way as well."

That brought a huge grin from the yellow Autobot. But before he could say anything else, Blaster poked his head into the room.

"Hey, I thought we'd have a little house warming party in your new room and—Oh, you're here, too."

Sunstreaker gave Blaster a challenging look. "Yeah, I am. What's it to you? Hoping to have a private party?"

"That was the plan, man," Blaster insisted. "It didn't involve you."

"Yeah, well, I don't know if leaving you two alone in here is a good idea."

Crystal laughed. "Sunstreaker, are you trying to protect my virtue? That is so cute!"

"Protect your virtue from what?" Jazz asked as he came in. Then he noticed Blaster. "Oh, I see."

"Screw you guys! My intentions are pure!" Blaster retorted.

"Uh huh," Jazz nodded, folding his arms and sounding unconvinced. "Besides," he added with a grin as he suavely sat down on Crystal's other side. "If her virtue's ever going to be in danger, it will be with me."

His sly grin only made Crystal laugh harder.

"Oh yes Jazz, if I ever make a booty call, it will be to you. I totally want that luscious ass of yours."

"I knew it," Jazz grinned, satisfied.

"What about me?" Blaster asked.

"Yours is nice, too," she assured him. “I'd call you next if Jazz was unavailable. Or maybe both of you," she added scandalously. Then she laughed as if she made a joke while the aforementioned Autobots looked at her, intrigued by the idea.

Sunstreaker watched it all quietly, with his hands still folded behind his head. He just realized his own personal joke in all the quasi-sexual banter.

This human girl, she didn't know. She had no idea what she was saying to them. To her, all the flirting was just a joke. She really didn't think any of them had the physical and emotional capability to take her words seriously. She certainly wouldn't have been the first human to assume that, but this situation was too funny.

Sunstreaker kept his discovery to himself. He was going to have to come see this human female more often. This was going to get interesting.

**Close File #006 Kind: Sunstreaker**


	6. Deep

**The Autobot Files**

**By: Ghost of the Dawn aka Ty-Chou**

**File #007 -Deep**

Sunstreaker started it. At least, that was Ratchet's theory. When Crystal had taken care of him in the quarantine room, it sparked a fire of interest in her. That, coupled with her new room, made her comfortable enough in the Ark to start finding something to do.

Not that Ratchet thought it was a bad thing. It was a positive sign for her to take the initiative to find her place in her new home. But when she cornered him with the demand of "Ratchet, make me useful!" he wasn't sure what to say.

"Uh...useful where? What did you have in mind?"

Crystal looked around the med bay. "I thought maybe I could help around here...you know, like take care of people."

Ratchet didn't look too agreeable to the idea. If she was expecting Autobots to pick up viruses on a regular basis, she was mistaken. The largest portion of medical duties were fixing injuries. It could be hard physical labor at times. It wasn't work for someone who just wanted to occupy their time.

Luckily, Wheeljack was present at the time. There was much to say about Wheeljack, but one could not say he was never without a plan of action no matter what was thrown at him.

"With any job, knowledge comes first. Come here." Wheeljack put his hand on the small of her back and guided her over to a station in the corner.

"See this? It's tapped into Teletraan One. It's the most advanced computer we have. Teletraan has information about anything."

Crystal looked up as Wheeljack sat her down. "So you're just going to leave me at the computer and expect me to learn?"

"Yup," Wheeljack responded briskly as he left. "Good luck, kid."

Crystal looked at the screen with wide optics at the thought of her daunting task. Then her optics narrowed with a frown when she got the feeling they were just dumping her off to get her out of the way.

But it wasn't like she had anything else better to do. Wheeljack was right, she needed to know about this world—about anything—if she wanted to be useful in any way. However, she doubted what she would learn enough when left to her own devices in front of a computer.

Maybe she could at least look around and get an idea of what she could get into and then harass someone to teach her from there. She hated the thought of doing it that way. She was well aware that she was an extra distraction to soldiers who had far more important things to do. But she was committed to learning as fast as possible so she would only be a hindrance for a little while. Crystal was determined to be an asset to her new family. She just had to figure out how.

The first click of the consul had Crystal hoping she would be able to find something to work with. Or at the very least, something she could understand. After a few clicks in, her thoughts disappeared into a whole different world.

* * *

"How does it look, Ratchet?"

The medic looked up from his diagnostics screen to the Autobot laying on the table with his chest cavity open.

"Give it a second, Prowl. That thing is old. My system is having a hard time picking it up."

As Ratchet typed away, Prowl turned his head when he heard a groan and noticed he was not the only patient in the med bay at the time. A lanky red form was hunched with his back facing them on a table on the other side of the room.

"What's wrong with Sideswipe?"

"Nothing." Ratchet assured him. "I've checked him from nose to tailpipe, he's fine. He just likes to come into the med bay and moan for about an hour or so and then he leaves. Then we do it all over again the next day."

"Strange." Prowl mused.

"Isn't he always? There's nothing physically wrong with him. He's just acting out on something else. It's up to him to deal with whatever that is. Now, back to your battle computer, you were right. It's on its last legs. I'd say it won't be long until it goes out completely."

Prowl shifted with a frown. "I could feel it shorting out since those humans attempted their reprogramming."

"Makes sense," Ratchet nodded. "You were forced to go past your normal logic processes. It shorted out a couple of your systems."

"Can you fix it?"

On that request, the medical officer stood and unplugged the diagnostic wires from Prowl's systems. "That thing is ancient. It would hardly be worth the trouble."

Prowl set his mouth in a firm line. "I would like to have it working."

Ratchet raised an optic ridge at him. "Why is that? I know what they used these computers for, Prowl. They were used to kick start battle strategies into new recruits until they gained their own experience. And you definitely have plenty of that."

He closed Prowl's chest panel and the second-in-command sat up, not looking happy.

"I still want it fixed."

"You don't need it," Ratchet informed him with finality. "If you want me to order you a new, upgraded model, I'll see what I can do. But I'm not going to spend time on an outdated piece of scrap you don't need. Unless there's something else you need it for?"

Prowl stared him down as Ratchet dared him to admit the real reason he wanted it repaired so badly. Prowl looked away first and stalked soundlessly out of the med bay.

* * *

It was late. The night was uneventful and Ratchet was fixing to close the med bay for a few hours so he could recharge. He flipped off all the lights and was ready to lock the door when he noticed the dim blue flicker of a monitor screen in the back. He followed it and dropped his jaw at the source.

"You're still here?!" he demanded.

Crystal didn't look up from the screen. She was clicking frantically at the computer. Pages upon pages flashed on the screen. They only needed to be up for a second before Crystal's new computer brain took in every single word, saved it away in a file, and remembered it forever. Then up went the next page and so on. Information seemed to be flooding her every cell and she was drinking it up. Never had she imagined she could learn like this. Never did she fathom she would be smart enough to contain this kind of information. It was absolutely exhilarating.

"Hey!" Ratchet barked when she didn't hear him the first time.

Crystal jumped, barely realizing he was there.

"What are you still doing here? It's been..." He checked is internal chronometer since Wheeljack had taken her back there. "Almost thirty hours!"

Crystal had the presence of mind to look a little guilty.

Ratchet was just in awe. No one had ever showed that much interest in their computer files before. Of course, it wasn't expected of the Witwicky's, they were usually more interested in the Cybertronian history than anything else. Even the Arielbots didn't pay it much mind. They flipped through a few things and then left it alone.

But Crystal had nosed through everything. And it wasn't the usual information he expected her to be interested in. It was mostly technical stats. Mechanical parts: what they were, how they worked, what went where in the body. Every member of the Ark had their own list of stats and who needed what to use for which function. Crystal had rifled through them all. It wasn't exactly classified information, but Ratchet felt it wasn't what she should be looking at.

"Wow, really? I didn't realize I had been here for that long." Crystal’s gaze was already drifting back to the computer. She still wanted to learn more.

Ratchet was not amused.

"Get out of here and give your memory circuits a rest before you fry them."

Crystal looked dubious as to whether or not that threat was true, but obediently left as she was locked out of the med bay.

Then she was left alone in the dimly lit hallway. Despite it being the middle of the night, the rest of the Ark was hardly any more quieter than it was during the day. The Autobots weren't subject to adhering to the Earth's strict schedule of night and day. They refueled when they were near empty and rested when they needed to recharge, and the rest of the time they worked, trained or relaxed outside or in the rec room. With that routine, Crystal wasn't sure she had a place. She didn't have a job or responsibilities. She was told not to go into the training room without supervision, and without the first two, she hardly felt she earned the right to relax with them in the rec room.

This was her new home now. This was her new life. She had to find a place in it. She had to find something to contribute. Living off the Autobots and spending her days doing nothing was not how she wanted to live, even if the Autobots themselves seemed fine with it. She wouldn't do it. Her pride wouldn't stand for it.

She began wandering the halls, looking for something to do. As she passed the rec room she heard talking and laughing. Some of the voices she knew and some of them she did not. She passed it without going inside and continued on.

She walked past several doors, mentally going over what was behind them. A few she was still a bit fuzzy on, but she was starting to learn her way around. One of the doors was Optimus Prime's office. It was closed at the moment so she continued on.

At the end of her journey, Crystal reached a section of the Ark that was deep in the back and she wasn't sure if she had ever been shown around the area before. It didn't look like a place where many went. Part of the hull had been ripped into by the volcano leaving half of the walls metal and the other half earth. At the very end was a gaping chasm. Much larger than all the other doorways on the Ark.

Overtaken by curiosity, Crystal had to peek inside. What was there resembled more of a cave than a room. Part of the wall looked like it had been dug away to make a bigger section by digging into the side of the mountain. Piles of dirt lying around were silent testimony to that fact. Crude fixtures were hastily wired into the ceiling so there would be enough light to see.

Also in the room was a metal brontosaurus and a very large blue and red Autobot Crystal had never seen before. The latter was stooped over the former who was laying on his belly. The Dinobot had his large rear hip panel open while the Autobot poked at it. Crystal stayed near the doorway, watching curiously. It felt like a whole new world back here. What were they doing?

The brontosaurus had his head resting on the ground and raised it when he noticed her presence.

"Someone there," he said lowly.

The other Autobot quickly turned and transformed into his alternate mode, a pterodactyl.

Crystal shrank back behind the door frame. They both were Dinobots!

Despite her attempt to hide, Swoop flew right over to her.

"Me Swoop see you before," he accused of the small, pink body shrinking in the corner.

He transformed into robot mode again, causing Crystal to squeak in surprise and fear. She recalled what Hound had told her once about how easily these large robots could squash her flat. And this time, she didn't have anyone else to look out for her.

Swoop tilted his head at her in curiosity. "Why you scared of me Swoop? Me Swoop no hurt you. Grimlock say you friend of Autobots and Dinobot be nice to you."

Crystal stared. Grimlock said that?

"What you do here?"

"Um...I was just looking around," Crystal said in a small voice, back pressed against the wall. "I didn't know you were down here."

"This Dinobot's home," Swoop said as if she hadn't figured it out already. "Come in and see?"

"Um...okay, I guess."

Swoop transformed walked back in, glancing behind, fully expecting her to follow. Crystal was hesitant to move, but Swoop seemed pleased to have her come in and she figured it was best not to upset him. She walked carefully into the large room. The brontosaurus was still laying on the floor, watching her with his small head erect.

"Who you?" he wondered. His voice was slow and gentle when he spoke, unlike Swoop's quick, bird-like speech.

"My name is Crystal. Um...what's your name?"

"Me Sludge."

"Me Swoop!"

"Sludge and Swoop...okay." Crystal filed the information away. She was glad these two didn't seem to be as aggressive as the other two Dinobots seemed to be.

"So what's wrong with you, Sludge? Are you hurt?"

Sludge looked at his exposed hip joint. "Leg no work. Wheeljack gone and Ratchet in recharge. Grimlock say have to wait until fix."

"Me Swoop try to help. But me not know what to do. And me Swoop hands too big."

"Can I look?" Crystal wondered.

"You can fix?" Sludge asked.

"I don't know. I can try."

Sludge allowed her to come close and Crystal peered in at the hip join. She prayed she had picked up enough information to at least be of some help. But it didn't take a genius to see the problem.

"Good grief! That thing's a mess!"

The entire joint was caked in filth and grime to the point where it was simply crusted solid.

"You can fix?" Swoop asked.

Crystal looked thoughtful. She had certainly seen enough joints by now to know what a clean, functioning one looked like.

"I think I can. But I will have to get some tools. I'll be right back, okay?"

She was so excited by the idea that she didn't even wait for a reply before running off down the hall. She was almost to the other side of the base when she heard someone call her name.

"Hey, where you going?" Blaster asked. "Come hang out with us."

Crystal flinched. So close.

"Can I get a rain check on that? There's something I'm trying to do right now."

Blaster was surprised. "Well I guess if you have to—"

"Great! Thanks bye!"

"Okay..." Blaster said as she ran off around the corner.

With Ratchet's bay locked, Crystal went to Wheeljack's empty lab and dug around in his tools. Once she had packed all the equipment she thought she would need, she hurried back to the far side of the Ark, careful to be more quiet this time so no one would stop her on the way back.

She passed Hound in the hall but he just gave her a knowing smile and left her to be up to whatever she was up to. She loved him.

When Crystal returned to the Dinobot's room, she saw Sludge with his hip panel closed and he was trying to force the joint to move.

"Hey! What are you doing?" she demanded, her timidness now gone.

The two Dinobots looked at her in surprise.

"You come back?" Sludge wondered.

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

"Autobots not always come back when they say they will," Swoop told her as if it were information he had long since accepted as reality.

"They don’t?" Crystal demanded. "Well that's rude. I will always come back when I say I will, okay? Now sit back down, Sludge, so I can fix you."

The Dinobot obediently complied and lay down again so Crystal could open the hip panel and get to work.

The first ting she did was take out a pick and a file and began digging out the grime as best she could. Swoop hovered over her shoulder in robot mode, watching silent and curious.

"Does that hurt?" Crystal asked as she worked her way down to scraping at the gear itself.

Sludge said it didn't and looked hardly bothered by the procedure. So Crystal kept going. The work was hard, digging out the massive joint from what looked like several years of neglect. She had a bottle of solvent that she sprayed on the joint. It was supposed to eat up the rust and dirt and then evaporate.

Crystal was almost done when heavy footsteps thundered into the room. She was so engrossed in her task, she didn't even hear them.

"What this?!" a heavy voice boomed.

Crystal jumped and fumbled with her file at the sound. It clattered on the floor.

Grimlock in dinosaur mode stomped in with the two other Dinobots behind him.

"What you doing here?" he demanded.

Before she could explain herself, Sludge stood up.

"Her fix me Sludge. Can walk now."

Grimlock transformed into his robot form. "You come here to fix Dinobots?"

"Well, you know," Crystal said awkwardly as she closed Sludge's hip panel. "I was just trying to help."

"You Crystal fix me Swoop’s wing next?" Swoop asked. "It not work good."

"I'll try."

Snarl looked up at Grimlock in confusion. "So she now fix Dinobots? Not Wheeljack or Ratchet?"

Slag just growled, not liking the idea of that little pink thing touching him.

Grimlock motioned them away and the two Dinobots lumbered off deeper into the cave they dug. The Dinobot leader then approached Crystal and went down to one knee to get a better look at her.

"You say you Crystal?"

"Yeah," she insisted. She could see her reflection in Grimlock's optic band, he was studying her so closely. "I was that human with the red hair, remember?"

"So you...not human now..." Grimlock processed the information slowly. "Why? You human, you Crystal should stay human."

Crystal shrugged. How was she going to explain this to him? It was so nice of the Autobots not to tell him anything and leave her to try and make him understand.

"Well, I was shot. And I got hurt really bad and the only way to save my life, I guess, was to put me in this body."

Sludge transformed into robot mode, causing Crystal to jump in surprise again.

"You Crystal died?" he asked with wide optics.

"You zombie?!" Swoop screeched, looking horrified.

Grimlock shook his head, making a low rumble of disgust at their reaction.

"Me Grimlock think Autobots not do their job if you get hurt. Now trying to clean up their mess." He peered at her closer. "Me Grimlock still not sure you her Crystal. Her human. You not human. Me Grimlock not know what you are. Maybe Autobots lie to you."

Crystal's mouth fell open as she searched for a reponse. But Grimlock was already getting up.

"If you want to stay and help Dinobots, me Grimlock say you can. Me Grimlock maybe decide what you are later."

With that, he turned his back to her and left down the cave as well.

Crystal watched him go, feeling confused. Who would have thought Grimlock would have been the one to make her question it all? As simple as his statements were, there was a depth to them that surprised her. A depth maybe brought on by one who has asked themselves what they were also. A nudge on her shoulder caught her attention and she looked up at Swoop's curious face.

"You can help Swoop now?"

She smiled lightly at him. "Yeah I can, show me that wing."

* * *

It was several hours before anyone realized Crystal was missing. She didn't have anywhere she had to be, no post to report to at any time, so it was easy for her to be forgotten. Eventually, Ratchet thought he should ask around to see what she was up to. He threw a few radio signals out to see if anyone had seen her. No one had. Prowl had responded back that he and Ironhide were currently off duty and were going to look around.

The two split up and poked their heads in every room they could think of. Nothing. Eventually, they both met up again and decided there was only one place left to look. As they neared the open entrance to the Dinobot's cave, Grimlock stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest to meet them.

"What you want?" he asked gruffly.

"We're here for the kid," Ironhide said, looking pointedly into the room.

Grimlock didn't move, standing toe to toe with the red Autobot.

"I'll get her,” Prowl volunteered and walked into the room without Grimlock making any move to stop him.

Ironhide growled. "Why won't you let me in, ya stupid lizard?"

"Me Grimlock no like you," he told him frankly.

"What? And what makes Prowl so damn better than me?"

"Him Prowl come see Dinobot sometimes. Always ask about us. You and other Autobots never want to look at Dinobot unless you need us."

"Well I'll be," Ironhide muttered. "No wonder you always listen to him."

It made sense. Prowl devoted most of his time to making sure the Autobots worked together like a well-oiled machine. Having the Dinobots in his pocket certainly helped with that goal.

Within, Prowl approached Slag who was laying on his stomach in dinosaur mode. Crystal was on her tip toes, arms deep in his shoulder.

"Stop squirming," she told him.

Slag growled and shifted.

"Slag. Stop," Crystal repeated more firmly. She rapped her file on the crest of his head. "I'm going to loose a finger. You want my bloody body parts rattling around inside you forever?"

Slag stopped moving, save for the tip of his tail which twitched in annoyance.

Then came a grating sound as Crystal attempted to file down a few bits of metal to make the gears work better. She looked up when Prowl put his hand on her back.

"Oh, hey Prowl. What's up?"

"No one has seen you for a while. We came to check on you."

"Oh, well, here I am. I'm doing just fine."

Prowl nodded.

"You know," she continued. "These guys are really in sorry shape. I'm a bit irked with Ratchet. How can he let them get like this?"

"It's my understanding that Ratchet has a very hard time getting them to the med bay for any kind of maintenance short of serious injuries. When they are there, they refuse to sit still for him. And he is busy enough as it is. He doesn't have the time to go through that every couple of months. That, plus the Dinobots spend most of their time playing in the muddy rivers."

Crystal nodded. "I see. Well, I won't be mad at him then. In fact, I don't mind helping out at all. This is kind of fun."

"Yes, you are doing well," Prowl agreed. "You even have them sitting quite still for you. I don't know how you did it."

"If Dinobots move, Dinobots might hurt her Crystal," Sludge explained. "Grimlock say if we hurt, Grimlock rip out spark through optics."

"He did?" Prowl demanded.

"It how you talk to Dinobots," Grimlock explained without apology. "It what they understand."

"I think after you are done here, you should go see Ratchet," Prowl told Crystal. "He's starting to get antsy."

"Poor guy can't live without me," Crystal said as she got back to work. "We're going to have to have a talk about his separation anxiety. I can' be there to hold his hand all day long."

Grimlock make a noise of approval. "That sound more like her."

****************

Ratchet raised his head when Crystal entered the med bay. He looked her up and down, taking in the grime that had been smeared all over her arms and torso.

"So, you've been doing maintenance on the Dinobots?"

"It's a messy job, but someone's gotta do it," she grinned.

"You had fun then," Ratchet said as he motioned for her to follow him.

"I did. It was nice to actually do something to help out for a change."

Ratchet led her to a faucet in the wall that was fixed over an open drain.

"Get cleaned up." He handed her a cloth and then sat himself on a nearby table, one leg hanging down. "So, you think you've learned a lot now, have you? Want to do my job now?"

"I've learned some stuff," Crystal said as she rubbed the gunk off her arms. "Certainly not enough to do your job, but I want to help. I've memorized different parts and tools and stuff."

"That's not enough. You have to have the right hands-on experience to know what to do with all that information."

"Gee, I wonder where I could get some of that." Crystal looked at him pointedly.

Ratchet paused. "I'll think about it."

Crystal slumped. "That means no, doesn't it?"

"Actually," Wheeljack said as he came in, “when Ratchet says it, it usually means yes."

Crystal instantly perked up when Ratchet mumbled something in a low voice.

"I've got something for you," Wheeljack continued. He had a small handheld device with a screen and full key pad in his hands. "This is a portable version of Teletraan One. Anywhere you go you can access its information wirelessly."

Crystal snatched it and instantly began to flip through all the files in a frenzied pace.

"Calm down!" Ratchet barked as he put his hand over the screen. "The information's not going anywhere!"

"But I want to learn, Ratchet! I need something to do!"

"It would be nice to have an extra set of hands to help with the smaller jobs," Wheeljack said.

"It's the entire base against you, Ratchet," Crystal reasoned. "You're kind of out numbered. You need someone to help even things out."

Ratchet gave her a look. Since when did she start being so assertive towards him?

"I guess...I could devote some time for that..." he relented.

Crystal made an excited noise and flung her arms around his neck.

"You are the best!" she squealed. "I have sooo many questions!"

"Oh boy." Ratchet sighed. "Well, what do you want to know?"

"Oh, there's this noise I keep hearing in the chest. But I've researched all the different parts and I can't figure out which part makes that sound."

"Sound? In the chest?" Ratchet asked, confused.

Crystal grabbed Wheeljack's shoulders and pulled the taller Autobot down to her level and put her audio to his chest.

"I can hear it right here. It's rhythmic. Like a heart beat."

"That must be the spark you hear," Ratchet concluded.

"Yeah, you're not going to find that in the parts index," Wheeljack added. "Every Autobot only gets one and that's it."

"What is it? Can I see it?" Crystal asked.

The two Autobots looked a bit uncomfortable.

"That's kind of personal." Ratchet tried to explain.

"Here," Wheeljack offered, opening his chest panel. A large portion of his internal workings were exposed to her and Crystal mentally counted off all the different parts she could identify.

"This," Wheeljack pointed to a heavily armored box-shaped component in his upper chest, “is what we call the spark chamber. It houses our sparks inside and keeps them safe."

Crystal fought the urge to press both hands to the chamber and feel the power it housed within. "And sparks are personal," she repeated. "But what ARE they exactly?"

Wheeljack closed his chest panel. "Well, they give us life. They make us who we are. When the spark is destroyed, we're just normal machines without intelligence or sentience."

"You mean you die?" Crystal wondered. "So the spark is like your soul then."

"Yes," Ratchet agreed. "You could very much say it is."

Crystal was quiet as she processed that information.

That night, she was still thinking about it as she lay on her cot in her room. She didn't go in there often, only to sleep or get some alone time. Even sleeping wasn't too common anymore. She didn't do it every night, only when she felt like it. Ratchet said she would eventually grow out of it altogether because her body didn't need it, her brain only thought she did.

She had been very busy learning and working the past few days and she felt like she needed a rest. But her thoughts were still preventing her from going to sleep.

She thought about what she had learned lately, especially about sparks. These beings, their souls were a physical object that they could see and hold within them. How strange was that. What did that mean about their lives? How real were they? How did they get such a thing in the first place? It was a tough concept to wrap her head around and she thought about it over and over.

Idly, she wondered exactly how they looked at her in the way of what gave her life. She put her hand to her own chest, but she didn't feel that same soothing thrumming sound. Whatever a spark was, she didn't have one. So where was her soul? _What_ was her soul? How did it make it from her human body to this one? What exactly was she now?

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing she remembered was seeing a massive form with glowing, blue optics and sharp, shiny teeth looking down at her. Crystal threw herself against the back wall and made a sound of horror.

"Why you do that?" the metal dinosaur asked as he flipped on the light. "It only me, Grimlock."

His head and neck were in the doorway. His wide back end wasn’t quite fitting through the narrow door.

Crystal took a second to calm down. There was something pounding in her chest; her fuel pump. The closest thing she had to a heart beat.

"You Grimlock scared the crap out of me!" she accused.

Grimlock offered no apology.

"Me Grimlock come see you 'cuz me Grimlock been thinking. Me Grimlock small once, but me Grimlock still same. Crystal small before, but now Crystal look different. Maybe still same."

Crystal glared at him. "And this couldn't wait until the morning?"

"Me Grimlock remember her Crystal love sleep. Would make that face when me Grimlock wake her up. Just like that."

Crystal kept frowning.

"Me Grimlock think maybe what Crystal look like not matter. Still Crystal anyway."

A smile tugged at Crystal's mouth. A sad, but grateful smile. "Yeah, maybe."

"And me Grimolck also thinking, you built by Wheeljack and Ratchet. So are Dinobots. So we related. Now we brothers even though you not Dinobot."

Crystal surmised that Grimlock didn't know that term was gender specific and she let it slide.

"Oh no, we're not related. I already have parents and they sure as hell are not Ratchet and Wheeljack."

Grimlock growled in displeasure. "You not want Grimlock! Think you better, just like Autobots!"

"Aww...of course I don’t," Crystal insisted as she got up and put her arms around his thick neck.

Grimlock immediately looked offended.

"Why you hug me Grimlock?"

"Because I love you, silly! Even if you're not sure what I am."

She pulled away and Grimlock lowered his head to look her in the face.

"Me Grimlock say same, even if her Crystal not know what her is either."

Crystal smiled weakly. Tears would have welled up in her optics if they had the ability.

"Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

“What in the name of Cybertron is this?” Ironhide demanded.

Grimlock had attempted to force his dinosaur mode through Crystal’s small doorway. Currently he was laying on his stomach, filling up most of the room. His back end and tail spilled out into the hall, tripping up Ironhide as he passed by.

Crystal looked up as the red Autobot yelled in her direction. She was leaning against Grimlock’s side in what little space was left, clicking on her new handheld computer.

“Nothing, Ironhide,” she said as if it were an ordinary thing. “It’s just a tail. Walk around it.”

“Walk around it,” Ironhide grumbled.

The offending tail stretched almost to the other wall and swished back and forth every once in a while. It wasn’t a very convenient hallway accessory.

Grimlock raised his head to look at Ironhide’s glaring face and growled. Crystal responded by scratching him on his long snout. He put his head back down with a satisfied rumble deep in his chest.

“He’s still here, huh?” Mirage commented as he walked by. “I heard you two making noise all night long.”

“All night? Primus, doing what?” Ironhide demanded.

“Oh you know,” Crystal shrugged, not looking up from her computer screen. “Discussing the meaning of life and where we come from; deep mysteries of the universe and the like.”

Mirage tried not to laugh at the look of complete befuddlement on Ironhide’s face before the red Autobot wandered off, muttering to himself.

**Close File #007 - Deep: Grimlock**


	7. Home

**The Autobot Files**

**File #008 - Home**

"Hey."

_Tap. Tap._

"Hey glitch head. Wake up."

Sideswipe groaned when his brother lifted the lid of the recharge chamber he was currently using and began poking him in the face.

"What?" Sideswipe whimpered and rolled over on his side away from Sunstreaker. "I'm still recharging."

"You're good enough," Sunstreaker insisted. "Get out."

He only had about a half an hour left on his time. Sideswipe decided it was hardly worth it and climbed out.

"What do you want?"

"What's up with you?" Sunstreaker demanded. "It's the holiday and there's going to be a big party tomorrow. But all you do is mope around. I thought you would be more excited than that."

"Yeah, I guess..." Sideswipe looked at his feet.

"Come on." Sunstreaker grabbed his arm. "We're going to go see Crys. She's been wanting to meet you."

Sideswipe instantly dug in his heels. "Nah, I don't really feel like it." He tried to keep his voice calm, but there was a higher note of panic in it.

"What? Don't be stupid. Just come on!" Sunstreaker ordered.

Sideswipe fought back, twisting out of his grip and bolting for the door. Sunstreaker was quick to tackle him and both crashed to the floor. Sideswipe tried to crawl away, but Sunstreaker would not let go.

"What the slag is wrong with you?" Sunstreaker grunted as he tried to pull his brother back.

Sideswipe just continued to claw his way free. When that wasn't working, he turned on Sunstreaker and shoved his hand in this his brother's side, right under his torso armor. He grabbed a few wires and tweaked them as hard as he could.

"Ouch! Son of a—" Sunstreaker yelped in pain and let go to double up in agony.

Once free, Sideswipe scrambled to his feet and fled the room, leaving Sunstreaker on the ground, holding his side and swearing after him in pain and anger.

* * *

"Hound," Crystal called as she walked into the rec room with a tray in her hand. "Come try this."

Hound looked at the small, bite-sized energon cubes on the tray. They appeared normal enough.

"Okay," he said. "I'll give it a taste."

He put a cube cautiously in his mouth, unsure of what to expect. But then his optics flickered brighter in pleasant surprise.

"Hey, that's good. That's really good!"

Gears, who watched carefully nearby, caught Crystal's attention.

"Try one?" she asked.

Gears frowned and eyed her suspiciously. But Hound was already eagerly reaching for another piece. Gears decided it was probably safe and took one himself. It was at least enough to wipe the scowl from his face for a little while.

"What is this?" Hound asked. "This is the best energon I have ever had."

"I broke down the energon formula into all the different ingredients," Crystal explained. "And I found out which components brought the pleasant taste and I increased it. However, the percentage of the healthy ingredients went down."

"So it's basically junk food," Hound laughed.

"Yeah, pretty much," Crystal agreed. "So you don't want to eat a whole bunch of them, but a few shouldn't hurt. I thought it would be fun for our Christmas party."

Hound was already taking a third.

"Oh, what's this?" Optimus Prime said as he came into the room and inspected the tray.

"Try one," Crystal instantly offered. Then she realized Optimus didn't have a mouth. Had she just made a mistake?

"Don't mind if I do," Optimus said anyway.

He picked up the cube and Crystal watched in fascination as a small filter opened up on his face mask and he poured the energon through. Crystal thought it might look weird to see him try to eat, but he made it look very natural.

"That was very good," Optimus praised as he looked over the now empty tray. "Is there any more?"

"Not at the moment," Crystal grinned, delighted to have his approval. "Those were my tests. But I'll be making a whole bunch more for the party tomorrow."

"Excellent! I look forward to—"

"Optimus, I need to have a word with you!" Prowl's voice called down the hall. He didn't sound altogether happy.

Optimus' shoulders instantly went rigid and he suddenly took off out of the rec room with a hasty. "I have to go."

He only made it to the door when Prowl's face was there to greet him.

"I have something to discuss with you, sir," Prowl informed him.

"As do I," Mirage said accusingly behind him.

Optimus slipped passed them and started briskly down the hall. "I'm afraid I don't have the time right now. I am very busy."

"No you're not!" Prowl barked as he hurried to catch up. Mirage was right on his heels. "I know your schedule!"

Optimus stopped and slumped his shoulders. There would be no getting away from them.

"Alright, in my office."

He led them to his door before allowing them in first and then shutting the door behind them all so they could continue the discussion in private.

"Alright, what did you want to discuss?" he asked as he leaned against his desk. Though he was pretty sure he knew the topic.

"I just looked over your draft of requested transfers to Earth," Prowl said. "I would like to suggest Smokescreen's name be removed from the list."

Optimus couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice.

"Why is that Prowl? The two of you are always very professional and have been able to keep your personal problems aside to get the job done in the past."

Prowl set his jaw. "I cannot handle him right now. I need some time."

"Time to do what?" Optimus asked.

Prowl stubbornly stayed quiet.

"I need him," Optimus insisted. "He is too good at underground intelligence not to have him. Unless you can give me a very good reason why he should not be transferred, Prowl, he will be coming down."

His second didn't say anything and Mirage took his turn to jump in.

"What about me, Prime? I've been waiting over twenty Earth years to be put on that list! When are you going to send me back home?"

Optimus walked over and put a hand on the shorter blue Autobot's shoulder. "I am sorry, Mirage, but I still need you here. It shouldn't be much longer."

Mirage shrugged off the gesture. "Yeah, that's what you said the last two times and I'm still here!” He turned stormed out of the office.

They watched him go, but neither followed. Optimus then turned to his second, sounding tired.

"Anything else you want to bring to my attention?"

Prowl shook his head, feeling regret for bringing up his own problems in the first place. "No, sir. I'm finished."

* * *

Later that night, Prowl sat down heavily in the surveillance room, not looking happy.

"Tough day, Sarge?" Jazz asked, not looking up from his consul.

"Mirage didn't make the transfer again."

"Poor guy," Jazz nodded. "We'll have to get him drunk tomorrow night and party until dawn."

"That's not how you solve things," Prowl replied irritably.

"Well, until he either gets transferred or forgets about it, it's all we've got.”

Prowl's door panels drooped as he thought about it.

"I don't think Mirage realizes what he's trying so hard to go back to. Cybertron isn't the same as we left it. It's been far too long. We're strangers to it now. Even strangers to our own kind. We're outsiders—the Earth Autobots. And it's going to take a very long time to change that. I don't want to see the look on Mirage's face when he makes it back to Cybertron and realizes that."

Jazz nodded and said nothing. His silence spoke for him.

Unseen in the doorway, Crystal crept silently back to her room.

* * *

Christmas Eve Day was a special time at the Ark. The Autobots didn't have holidays on their own planet. They didn't even have anything resembling a repeating year. Time was kept a different way for them. And they didn't spend much time adhering to Earthly holidays which varied between continent and religion and were quite confusing most of the time. But Christmas was the exception. Widely embraced almost worldwide and by a large portion of the religions beliefs, the Autobots found it very easy to join in the festivities once a year.

Though they certainly didn't understand the full meaning of the holiday, either religious or commercial, but they understood it was a time for seeing those important to you and being grateful for what you have. And it was a reason to have a party.

There was no set tradition for the Autobots as far as celebrating went. Sometimes everyone did their own thing. Other years various nearby towns had invited them to either participate in or watch one of their Christmas celebrations. This year the party was at the Ark and the base was "transformed into festive mode" as some of the Autobots called it. It was all because of their new addition, even though Crystal insisted she hadn't really celebrated Christmas for a few years now and said it didn't matter to her anyway. But the Autobots wanted a party and she wasn't going to argue with them.

Everyone was busy decorating and moving things around to make enough room for everyone to gather. There would be lights, music and food. Everyone was looking forward to it, save maybe one.

Mirage sat in a melancholy mood on the side of the volcano. He rested his chin on his palm as he watched the silent, winter world. He was sick of looking at it. And he was sick of hearing about this stupid Earth holiday. He didn’t get the point. He just wanted to go home. Life wasn't fair.

The familiar crunch of snow beneath heavy feet reached his audios and he looked down to see Blaster had found him. The radio had taken a break from hooking up sound and light equipment and just happened to notice Mirage outside. He blended in quite well to the background.

"Hey Big M, how's it shakin'?" Blaster greeted as he climbed up to join him.

Mirage frowned at the sight of him. "You're not exactly my favorite Autobot right now, you know."

Blaster plopped down next to him. "What? Cuz I'm gettin' transferred next week?"

"You get transferred back and forth more than anyone," Mirage accused.

"Hey, don't be hatin' just cuz I've got skills. Everyone wants some of Blaster."

Mirage looked even more put out and turned away from him.

"Hey, I'm sorry, man," Blaster sobered. "I hear you've been trying to transfer for a while."

"Yeah." Mirage sighed. "But I'm too good at my job here for Prime to let me go."

Blaster smirked again. "Maybe you should fix that. They say do a job bad enough and you'll never have to do it again."

The tip of Mirage's mouth quirked up. "Believe me, it's tempting."

"Hey man, do you mind if I ask you what you're going back for?" Blaster then said.

Mirage looked at him blankly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you have a friend up there or something important to go back to? Is that why you've been so desperate for a transfer?"

"No, there's no one. I just miss my home planet."

"Home planet, but you don't really have a home there.”

"What's wrong with that?" Mirage challenged. "Cybertron is where I belong. Why wouldn’t I want to go back there?"

Blaster folded his hands behind his head and looked towards the sky.

"You know Mirage, before the war I lived in Helix City. Created there and lived there my entire life. My best friend and I, we loved it. The lights, the music, the night life, it was our city. We felt like we didn’t belong anywhere else. That was home.

“But then came the Decepticons.” Blaster shifted and the smile ran from his face. “Their first raid on Helix took my best friend–my only family– from me. And I was alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Mirage said. “It must have been hard to go on without him.”

“Without _her_ ,” Blaster corrected. “We managed to drive the Decepticons out of the city, but it wasn’t the same anymore. Without her, Helix was just a bunch of strangers and buildings. She was the one that made it home. And without her, there was no reason to stay. So I left. I still don’t care if I ever go back. I don’t care if it’s rebuilt down to the last detail. It’s not where I belong now.”

Mirage watched him for a while. “Blaster, why are you telling me this?”

"If no one was left on Cybertron, would it still be your home?" Blaster asked.

Mirage gave no response.

* * *

"Hound, I need your help," Crystal said as she found the green Autobot pinning garland to the wall. "You know how you told me you could make holograms?"

He finished his task and turned to give her his full attention. "Yes? What can I do for you?"

Crystal whispered her plan to him. Hound’s optics widened at the idea.

“By tonight?”

"It’d be great if you could," Crystal nodded.

Hound rubbed his chin in thought. "That's a pretty tall order. I would need some help to create a hologram that size. I'll see if I can get Blaster and Jazz to help me put some equipment together."

"That would be awesome!" Crystal clapped with glee. "Thanks Hound! You're the best! I'll make an extra batch of my energon just for you!"

Hound grinned with his own excitement. "That's a deal!"

* * *

"Lazerbeak returns, Megatron," Soundwave announced as the small cassette spy flew into the sea tower.

Megatron slouched in his chair, the very look of boredom all over his face plate. They hadn't been up to much lately. The icy weather was unfavorable to his seekers and they had recently procured a large stash of energy from their last raid, so they were not hurting for anything at the moment. It had been too quiet lately and Megatron was starting to get the itch. It was about time he spent some energy formulating a new plan. Maybe Lazerbeak's findings would help inspire him.

"Show me what he's found," Megatron ordered.

Lazerbeack transformed and slipped neatly into Soundwave's chest compartment. The footage he had was not audio, but video.

"Downloading visual image," Soundwave reported.

He siphoned the information from his subordinate and replayed it on his chest. It was pictures of the Autobot base with a few of them milling around outside, stationing equipment here and there and hooking up various cords and curious apparatuses. The footage ended when Blaster walked out and looked straight at the camera. The Autobot had obviously detected the signal and blocked it.

Megatron rubbed his chin in thought. What were the Autobots up to? Were they increasing their base’s defenses? Or maybe building a new power source? Whatever it was, Megatron wanted to know. He got up and took the elevator to the bottom level of the tower.

Unlike the chilled atmosphere near the landing pad, the lower levels were heated quite comfortably. Not that the difference in temperature bothered them, but seekers were a finicky bunch and they liked being warm if they could help it. Something about their wings made them like that. They preferred to camp down in the warmer levels during winter unless needed. That was where Megatron found them.

"I have a mission for you three," he told them.

Thundercracker and Skywarp looked up from what they were doing, Starscream did not.

"The Autobots are up to something at their base," Megatron continued. "I want you to watch them and find out what it is. If it is of use to us, take it. If not, destroy it."

"Now?" Skywarp demanded. "But it's icy outside! Our wings will freeze over. That's dangerous flying."

"Tonight will be overcast and warm," said Megatron with the authority of a leader who's crew forced him to do his weather research. "You can go then."

Skywarp and Thundercracker slumped with acceptance. Starscream never looked up from what he was working on.

* * *

The Ark didn't have a kitchen. With a simple machine that always processed their energon, the Autobots never had use of such a thing. But when Crystal started experimenting with the energon, she was granted the storage room next to the rec room to play. She had removed the old clutter and cleaned the up room herself. There were several old energon machines within the storage room that she salvaged and rebuilt into what she needed to do her "cooking".

Currently, there was a deep pot of boiling pink energon being processed while Crystal fiddled with a smaller device on the side. That was when Sunstreaker poked his head in.

"Hey, what are you up to in here?" he greeted.

"Sunshine! Merry Christmas!" She glanced up to smile at him and then returned her attention to her project.

Sunstreaker held his tongue at the new nickname. He'd heard it a couple of times before from her. As long as she was the only one who used it and no one teased him about it, he would tolerate it, for now anyway. He wandered in and looked at the boiling vat.

"What's this?" He dipped his finger in and tasted it. The heat of the liquid didn't bother him at all. "Wow, that's really good!"

Sunstreaker went in for a second taste but Crystal quickly slapped his hand away before he could.

"No double dipping," she ordered. "There will be plenty at the party as long as you guys don’t try to eat it now."

Sunstreaker certainly wasn't the first Autobot she had to chase away from the vat that morning.

"So what are you doing over here?" the yellow Autobot then asked.

Crystal put the finishing touches on the collection of knobs and speakers and bare wires.

"It's a radio," she said proudly. "I built it from scratch myself."

She began fiddling with the knobs, trying to pick up a signal. Sunstreaker hopped up on the counter next to her.

"I tried getting Sideswipe to come with me, but he's being stupid. I don't know what his deal is."

"He certainly doesn't have to if he doesn't want to," Crystal said, not looking up. "Your company is very enjoyable just by yourself."

Sunstreaker grinned wide as a fuzzy sound drifted from the makeshift radio and then became clearer. Perry Como's version of _There's No Place Like Home For the Holidays_ kicked merrily into the room and Crystal laughed.

"Oh man! I haven't heard this song for forever! I used to listen to it all the time when I was a little kid." She began singing to it. "When you pine for the _sunshine_ of a friendly face, for the holidays you cant beat home, sweet home."

Sunstreaker shook his head at her emphasis on 'sunshine'. She wasn't going to let that go.

* * *

When the sun went down, the party came alive. Decorations were finished, music was playing and refreshments were laid out. The Dinobots dragged in a large evergreen, roots and all. A few Autobots stopped them at the entrance and properly trimmed it before it was hauled in the rest of the way. Optimus Prime held the tree up as it was stabilized to the floor and everyone began decorating with what they had gathered from previous holiday festivities over the years.

Crystal stood back with Jazz as the tree came alive with color. She enjoyed watching the Autobots decorate the tree more than she enjoyed decorating herself. She liked seeing them have fun and the novelty of watching giant alien robots doing something so common place in her culture.

"You know, I really have no idea why humans do half these things on Christmas," Jazz commented to her.

Crystal shrugged. "Honestly, most of us don't either. That's really what tradition is all about: doing something you did as a child purely for the nostalgia."

Jazz tipped his head, considering that. Then he grinned. "I know why they keep the mistletoe tradition. I'm going to go find some."

Crystal looked at him as if she didn't believe him.

"Hey Crystal, come put the star on the top," Wheeljack called. "We saved it for you."

She waved him off. "That's fine, you guys can do it."

"Put star up!" Grimlock demanded with a stamp of his foot. "Me Grimlock help!"

Jazz and Crystal exchanged looks and she smiled. "Okay, coming."

The tree was massive. The tip was taller than Grimlock, almost reaching the ceiling of the Ark's massive hull. Crystal knelt in Grimlock's massive hands and he lifted her toward the top of the tree. He wasn't the most steady. It took Crystal a moment to get her balance before she dared to lift the sizable silver star off her lap and try to impale it on the tip of the evergreen. It had lights and reflective streamers hanging off it. They didn't help. The fact that everyone in the Ark was watching her didn’t help either.

But she managed to get it on without dropping it and sat there for a moment, balancing her weight between Grimlock's hands and the star before she pushed off to settle all her weight back on the Dinobot. It would have worked out okay if Crystal had watched where she was setting the heel of her hand. She miscalculated and it landed on air. Crystal fell backwards from her perch with a gasp.

She saw Grimlock move to catch her, but the Dinobot was too slow. The floor rushed up to meet her and a pair of arms caught her against a flat, smooth chest before she could hit the ground. Crystal looked up into an unfamiliar face, black helmet and red body paint, in a daze. The red Autobot suddenly looked scared about what was in his arms and immediately tossed her to Brawn before running out of the room as fast as he could. Brawn caught her gently and held her like a china doll.

Crystal's head was still spinning. "What was that?" she wondered.

"That would be my brother," Sunstreaker said with a certain woe in his voice. He shook his head in the direction that Sideswipe had fled.

Brawn carefully put Crystal back on her feet. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, that boy just ain't wired right."

Crystal waved it off. "Little brothers are supposed to be weird. That's their job." She turned to Sunstreaker. "If he ever comes back, can you thank him for me?"

"That and other things," Sunstreaker vowed as he cracked his knuckles.

"Alright everyone! I'm going to plug in the tree," Wheeljack announced.

Many Autobots around him stepped back.

"Oh, come on!" Wheeljack insisted. "I'm just plugging it in!"

He did and the tree lights came alive safely. Everyone oohed and ahhed over them.

As the party went into full swing, Hound and Blaster came into the Ark and the former threw Crystal a thumbs up when he caught her optic. She grinned in excitement as Blaster stepped up on the small makeshift stage and grabbed the microphone.

"Hey everybody. It's your Christmas DJ Blaster with one last holiday surprise for everyone. If you will all step outside, we're gonna knock your socks off!"

Not very many Autobots were in on the plan, but had seen the equipment being hauled around. There was general curious chatter as everyone filed outside the Ark's main entrance and into the snow. The sky was thick with clouds and a few flakes were coming down. Everyone was eager to see what would happen.

* * *

"They're coming out," Skywarp reported. "Looks like the entire base is outside. This is something big."

"Excellent," Starscream nodded. "Get ready. The sooner we find out what it is, the sooner we can get out of here."

The seekers had been hiding among the snow since dark, waiting for the equipment to be used. Megatron had ordered them to wait all night if they had to until the Autobots revealed what their plans were. At least it looked like they could return soon. The trio couldn't wait to get back to the base. Curse this planet and its cold weather!

They waited, engines rumbling in anticipation, all optics glued to the sight below them. As the Autobots gathered, a fabulous light filled the area. All the three Decepticons could do was stare at the scene that met their optics.

* * *

A glittering city suddenly materialized all around the Autobots. Tall spires and architecture, lights and skyscrapers and curious air ships. It glowed and hummed and moved almost as if it were alive and the Autobots felt themselves being swallowed up in a past long forgotten.

"Cybertron..." Ironhide said, the word slipping out of his mouth like the name of a lover.

"I sometimes forget how beautiful it was," Trailbreaker added.

The snow began to fall in large, fat flakes, something the alien planet had never even dreamed of before. But it seemed to only add to the beauty of what surrounded them.

Crystal ran up to Hound excitedly.

"Hound! It looks amazing! I can't believe how real it looks! It's absolutely beautiful."

The green Autobot admired his handy work.

"Yup, this is Iacon. One of the prize jewel cities of Cybertron. Mirage's home town."

"So, you did it for me then?"

The two turned their heads and noticed Mirage standing there. Even without using his cloaking device, the Autobot spy had a talent for being undetected.

"It was Crystal's idea," Hound said, pointing at her. "I just did the grunt work."

“Since you didn’t get to go back home,” Crystal explained.

"You?" Mirage asked, confused. "Why?" He looked a bit uncomfortable. "I didn't think you knew..."

"Prowl and Jazz knew. They worry about you. And, you know, everyone should be home during the holidays." She smiled at him. "Merry Christmas, Mirage."

For a flicker of an instant, Mirage began to understand what this Earth holiday meant. And his mouth ticked up.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered back.

Near the base, Jazz enjoyed the full ambiance of the moment. It reminded him of the scenes in all the Christmas specials where everyone held hands at the end and sang soulful, heart warming songs full of love and holiday goodness. This seemed like a time to do that. But this holographic city felt too hallowed somehow for Earth songs.

Deep in his throat, old words from an ancient alien language formed with a tune his voice hadn't known since before the war. It came up slow, singing just to himself, an old Autobot folk song from the Golden Age. Next to him, Trailbreaker heard and joined in as well. So did others. The song drifted through the crowd as more voices joined in and it seemed to radiate from the holographic spires.

Crystal listened in silent awe. She didn't know the words and had no idea what they were saying. But she didn't wish to be a part of it. Those rough, war torn voices had a beauty and profound pride all their own. Her voice would have just ruined it.

* * *

They stood and stared for Primus knew how long. Time stood still with that city—golden, glowing and beautiful—splayed out before them. The song rose up to meet their audios and Thundercracker found himself mouthing the words, though he wasn't sure how he knew them. It was a song from before the war. He had no recollection of that time, yet he somehow knew this tune.

"So, when do we attack?" Skywarp impatiently demanded.

Transfixed on the scene, Starscream slowly raised his hand to halt him. He hadn't heard that song in a very, very long time.

"No," he finally said. "There is nothing here worth our energy. Let's go."

His two subordinates transformed and flew towards their base. Starscream lingered behind for a moment, sweeping his optics over the snowy city one last time before following.

* * *

Unfortunately, the holographic city could not be kept on all night. As soon as everyone had their fill, they filed back inside to commence with the party. Music played and the Christmas tree flashed brightly. Everyone was drinking, talking merrily and taking full advantage of the energon goodies.

"Here Crys, try some of this stuff," Blaster said cheerily as he shoved a small glass in her hands.

"Thanks!" Crystal took a sip of the energon and jerked back. "Wow, that stuff is strong!"

"That better not be high grade," Ratchet warned as he approached. "She doesn't have the proper filters installed for that."

"Oops," Blaster said sheepishly. "Uh, Crys, you may not want to—"

"That was good!" Crystal had already downed the whole glass. "More please!"

Blaster shrank away from Ratchet's fiery glare.

"How much did you give her?"

"Just a tiny glass, I promise!"

"Wow, the lights are sooo pretty," Crystal marveled at the tree. She was already swaying a bit. "They blink like they're talking to me. Blip, blip, blip."

"Yes, yes," Ratchet said as he put a hand on the small of her back and tried to guide her away. "Now come with me."

Crystal moved slowly, her feet a bit clumsy. She grinned as _Rocking Around the Christmas Tree_ played over the speakers.

"Such a great song. Ratchet, we should dance! I bet you're a great dancer."

"In a bit," Ratchet said patiently. "You need to sit down for a second."

Despite her protests, Ratchet steered her to a table.

"How's our little lady doing?" Trailbreaker greeted from the table.

"That idiot Blaster gave her high grade," Ratchet frowned. "I have to wait until it hits her system before I can do anything."

"Sit her down next to Daddy Ironhide," Mirage called happily, slapping the empty seat between himself and the mentioned red Autobot. He seemed to be in a much lighter mood since the news of his rejected transfer request.

"Shut up," Ironhide growled at him as Crystal plopped in the seat.

"Hee hee, Daddy Ironhide," she laughed at him as if she wasn't part of the joke.

"Someone's going to have to let Chromia know," Trailbreaker joked.

"Stop it," Ironhide growled at him and then turned to Crystal with a pleading look. "Come on kid, what did you even mean when you said I was like your old man? That's ridiculous. I'm not even his same species!"

Crystal snickered as if it were the best joke she had ever heard.

"You," she said, wagging a loopy finger in his face. "Remind me...and he was like that. And he...my dad used to say..."

Her mouth hung open for a while and everyone at the table waited for her to finish. Crystal's head hit face first on the table and she was out.

Trailbreaker and Mirage laughed.

"There she goes," Ratchet said as he moved to pick her up. "I'm going to get her to the med bay and see if I can't get that sludge out of her systems."

* * *

Crystal came to laying on a table in the med bay. She stared at the tubes sticking out of her chest with blurry optics. She reached up to grab them, but a red hand stopped her.

"Don't pull those out, I'm almost done."

Crystal tried to focus on the face. This was a most peculiar feeling. It was like every function in her body worked in slow motion. It took a while for her optics to give her a clear picture.

"What'sss going on?" she said in a slurred voice.

"You took some high grade. It was a bit too much for you."

Crystal balanced herself on her elbows as she tried to figure out what happened.

"So did I...get drunk then?"

"In a way, yes. The high grade is too concentrated for your body. You don't have the proper filters to break down something that powerful. It overwhelmed your systems, slowing them down until they shut off all together. Then I brought you back here to siphon out as much as I could. Otherwise, it would have been a few days before you were back up to speed."

"I see," Crystal nodded. "I don't remember it well. I didn't do anything stupid, did I?"

A smile twitched on Ratchet's face. "Well, you were in and out when I started removing the high grade from your system. You kept trying to dance to music that wasn't there and then you proposed to my work bench. And to Prowl."

Crystal threw back her head and laughed. "Well, I hope I at least entertained somebody. What did Prowl say?"

"He's actually behind you."

Ratchet assumed Crystal would be embarrassed, but all she did was slide back a bit so she could drape her head off the edge of the table to see Prowl sitting at the wall behind her.

"What did you say?" she asked.

Prowl didn't say anything. His face was blank, but he shifted uncomfortably.

"He said he'd think about it," Ratchet answered for him.

Crystal laughed again. "That means no in Prowl speak. Oh, my heart breaks!"

Ratchet reflected her good mood with a smile. "You sound functional enough to get you off of these." He began to disconnect the siphoning tubes from her main energy processor. "But you'll need to rest. You've been out of commission for a while."

Crystal's smile disappeared. "I missed the party, didn't I?"

"You did, I'm sorry."

"Meh," Crystal waved him off. "There's always next year. I'm sorry you had to miss it, too."

Ratchet smirked. "I didn't. Prowl watched you for me."

"Aww..."

Ratchet saw Prowl twitch again from the noise of endearment she made.

"Okay, all done," said the medical officer as he closed her chest compartment and helped her sit up. "I suggest you go and rest for a few hours in your room to be on the safe side. You should be fine. And don't ever drink anything Blaster gives you again. Ever."

Crystal saluted. "Yes, sir!"

She hopped off the table and immediately grabbed the side to keep her balance. Ratchet was about to offer to escort her to her room, but Prowl already had her arm.

"Come on," he said. "I'll take you down."

"Okay!" Crystal grinned happily as she hugged his arm. "Thank you, Prowl."

Prowl shook his head. She always said those three words in that same sing-song voice. But she wasn't letting him go, so he led the way down the hall towards Crystal's quarters.

She held tight to his arm, putting most of her weight on him. It wasn't much, but it did slow them down a bit as Prowl tried to compensate his balance for both of them.

"I'm sorry you missed the party for me," Crystal said in a more sober tone.

"Not at all," Prowl insisted. "Parties are not that important to me. I feel out of place in them sometimes."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," she smiled. She was silent for a moment and then spoke again. "Prowl? Are you okay? You've seemed worried about something lately."

Prowl was quiet for a moment. "Indeed," he admitted. "It has been a bit of a personal issue. It is something I would rather keep to myself. I apologize if that hurts your feelings."

"Not at all! I'm a big girl. I can understand that not everything is my business. That's one thing I really like about you, Prowl, you're always straight up with me. But I don't like seeing you sad. Even though I do understand there are times where it's okay to be sad. So, if there's anything I can do, just let me know, okay?"

"I can do that," Prowl nodded.

Crystal's quarters were not too far from the med bay and they reached it in no time. The two stood in the doorway, not moving, not saying anything to each other. Crystal glanced into the tiny space. For the first time, she wished it was something she could invite people into. A place where she could entertain company.

"I need to sit down," she announced. "I still feel a bit light headed."

She finally released Prowl's arm and sat herself on her cot against the corner so it would prop her up. She threw a sideways glance in Prowl's direct. He lingered in the doorway, one hand on the frame. Finally, he relented and stepped inside.

Crystal reached for her handheld, the only thing she owned, as Prowl sat on the cot next to her. As she turned it on, Prowl lay down on the cot, placing his head on her thigh and switching off his optics. His shoulders loosened with a tired hiss as he willed his body to relax.

"I could read you something if you would like," Prowl said after a while, he optics still off. "I downloaded a few more stories."

Crystal smiled. "That's okay. I'm not that big of a story person. I just liked the thought of you reading them, and hearing your voice."

"You are so strange, sometimes," Prowl told her.

Crystal smiled to herself as she began flipping through her archives of information on her handheld.

Prowl's head shifted on her lap as he moved to get more comfortable and her hand moved down to run her fingers over the side of his helmet. Crystal couldn't concentrate on her studies. It must have been a bit of that high grade still in her system. But she liked where she was. It was quiet and peaceful. And she was grateful she had been a part of the holiday celebration as long as she had.

She thought about the tree and the lights, the happy Autobots and the beautiful city that now only existed in their memories. As she recalled it all, an urge hit deep in her chest and she didn't fight it. It started out hardly a whisper and her voice grew to a gentle lulling tone as she sang.

"Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright...."

Up the hall walked Bluestreak, finished with helping move the tables back into the rec room. Ahead, he saw Jazz sitting in the hall right outside the storage space they had given to that Earth girl. Jazz motioned for Bluestreak to say quiet as he approached.

 _Why are you just sitting on the floor, Jazz?_ Bluestreak radioed so he wouldn't be heard.

Jazz grinned and responded back through the frequency. _It's been a long time since I've heard that sound._

Bluestreak tilted his head and listened. That human was singing, slow and calm. Bluestreak had never really talked to her before. It wasn't that he didn't like her, he just didn't know what he was expected to say, or how to act around her. He found it easier just to keep to his work and if an opportunity came where he had to converse with her, he would do it then.

The grey Autobot gingerly stepped over Jazz's legs and peered into the room. He saw the pink human in the corner with Prowl laying next to her. Her tiny hand traveled down his helmet and shoulders and ghosted over the glass on his back. In turn, his engine purred lowly, adding a low thrum to the singing voice.

Bluestreak didn't stay long for fear he would be noticed. But he realized something as he stepped over Jazz and went back down the hall.

Behind him, the voice continued her song as Jazz listened with a slight smile on his face.

"Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace..."

**Close File #008 Home: Mirage**


	8. Stranger Part One

**The Autobot Files**

**By: Ghost of the Dawn aka Ty-Chou**

**File #009 - Stranger Part 1**

His name was Bluestreak. For the two months she lived there, Crystal had never spoken to him. She thought about him sometimes. Only because his close resemblance to Prowl made her curious. She found out his name from looking through Teletraan's files, but that was the extent of her knowledge.

She had not endeavored to learn more about this particular Autobot and he had never attempted to engage her. But one day, though Crystal didn’t know how or why, Bluestreak got up out of recharge and decided they were going to be best friends.

The first official introduction was when Crystal walked out of her room the day after Christmas and was met with a brightly smiling face. As if he had been waiting for her the entire time.

"Hi!" The happy Autobot greeted enthusiastically. "I'm Bluestreak."

"Good morning Bluestreak," Crystal responded pleasantly. She didn't bother to give her name. She had lived there over two months now. Every Autobot on the Ark knew who she was whether they had formally met her or not.

"Nice to meet you," she said as she started down the hall.

She had places to be that day and fully thought the gray Autobot, who had never paid attention to her before, was going to move on his way.

But he didn't. Instead, he hurried to catch up with her. "Where are you going?"

"Uh...to Wheeljack's lab," Crystal responded. What did he want? Why was he still following her?

"Oh yeah, Wheeljack's lab. I haven't been there in a while," Bluestreak said conversationally. "I mean, I could go there whenever I wanted, but I don't really have a reason to. And sometimes Wheeljack is working hard on something and he doesn't really want to be bothered. So I try to leave him alone most of the time. But sometimes I wonder if he ever wants people to visit him. You know, maybe he gets tired of being the only one in there. Then there's no one to talk to and I know Wheeljack loves to talk about his inventions. So maybe I should go see him more just to see if he wants someone to visit him. So he gets a chance to talk to someone if he really feels like it."

 _'If he can get a word in,'_ Crystal thought.

Bluestreak went on talking and Crystal felt like she was in the Twilight Zone. No other Autobot had ever said so much to her. And for him to come out of the blue like that and just chat her ear off as if they had known each other was just strange to her. She was nearly to Wheeljack's door. Sweet sanctuary!

"Well, it was nice to meet you Bluestreak," Crystal quickly cut in before Bluestreak could start another train of thought. "But I have to get to work."

Wheeljack saw them enter. He easily picked up on Crystal's tone, encouraging the other Autobot to be on his way.

"Hey Blue, thanks for walking her down. Now we've got to get to work so we'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," Bluestreak responded happily. "Yeah, I don't want to bother you guys when you're trying to work. So I'll leave you to it. I have things I've got to do, too. So I'll be on my way. But maybe I'll come back later to see how you're doing or I'll come back when you're done and then we can go do something else. Bye!"

"You don't need to come back..." Wheeljack said. But Bluestreak was already long gone.

"Holy crap," Crystal said. "What's up with him?"

"Bluestreak?" Wheeljack wondered as he closed the door. "Why? What did he do?"

"It wasn't anything he did. It's just that he followed me all the way down here, talking my ear off."

Wheeljack chuckled. "Yeah, he does that. Bluestreak talks a lot when he's nervous or really excited about something... or, well, most of the time."

"It was just weird. He's never said anything to me before and then he was suddenly my constant shadow."

"Don't worry about Bluestreak, he's completely harmless, I promise. He's just trying to be friendly." Wheeljack set down a collection of tools on his work bench. "Now let's get to work."

This was the beginning of Crystal's training. The hands-on experience both Wheeljack and Ratchet said she needed. There had already been a few instances where Ratchet let Crystal observe during regular maintenance procedures on the Autobots. But there hadn't been a lot going on lately. No real injuries to repair. So Crystal settled for the next best thing, fixing odd devices around Wheeljack's lab and around the Ark.

To Crystal, it was about the same whether she was fixing the Ark's or an Autobot. Both had wires that had to be connected in order to work. Fans and engines and pumps that all ran on the same basic principals and were repaired the same way. Practice was practice and Crystal took it in any form she could get. She was just grateful for something to do, something else to think about so she didn't have to sit in silence and think about herself.

"What were these for?" Crystal asked later when she was cleaning up and found some discarded tubes on the table.

Wheeljack glanced at them in order to recall what they were. "Oh, my internal com went on the fritz. I ended up having to replace the whole thing."

Crystal looked at the tubes thoughtfully. "Can I install a radio in me? I found some plans for a simple one. It just goes in the arm. Then Ratchet won't have to keep calling all over for me when he gets lonely."

"Install it yourself?" Wheeljack wondered. "You sure you want to try that?"

"Why not? You just did it."

“I guess I expected you to be a bit more squeamish about doing work on yourself."

"What's there to be squeamish about?" Crystal demanded. "It's a metal body, see?" She removed a panel on her arm and opened and closed it a few times. "It's just a machine, a piece of hardware. It's no big deal."

Wheeljack looked at her for a moment. "You've been poking around your own circuits, haven't you?"

"Every chance I get," she said defiantly. "I know where every single one of my panels are and how they open and I'm familiar with most of my systems now. If you think that's weird in your little robot culture then—"

"What? No, no, that's fine," he insisted. "In fact I'm really glad that you're that passionate about learning. Every individual should know about their own bodies. If you want to try to add the radio yourself, go ahead. Just let me look at it when it's done."

Crystal's face lit up. "Okay, I will."

"And promise me you won't fiddle with anything major. Especially in these areas, okay?" He motioned to his head and chest. "This is where all the important stuff is. You could really mess yourself up if you don't know what you're doing."

"Gotcha."

"And don't get too obsessed with improving this body. It's just temporary. We're going to build you a new one."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. We're not going to keep you looking like that forever. What about when we all go back to Cybertron?"

"Cybertron?" Crystal marveled. She hadn't even imagined the idea of going to their home planet.

"Of course. We're not going to leave you here. And we need to make sure you fit in."

Crystal gasped as a new idea hit her. "Will I get an alt mode?"

There was the sound of a grin in Wheeljack's voice. "Of course."

"Anything I want?" Her voice was rising with her excitement.

"Anything you want," he confirmed.

Crystal made a happy squealing sound. It was one thing she had wondered about as she watched the Autobots race around the countryside. What would it be like to be one of them, to drive across the land at top speed with other Autobots? It sounded brilliant and exhilarating, and she had wanted it since the idea had struck her processor.

"But it will still be a while," Wheeljack warned. "Being on Earth slows us down. When Perceptor gets transferred here, he's going to look at your system and help us design a better one. And then we'll design a body around that. That in itself will take a while and then we have to order all the parts and build it. So don't get too excited yet."

"And it won't be pink," Crystal stated with finality.

Wheeljack chuckled. "We'll make it whatever color you want."

"Woo!"

At that moment Jazz poked his head into the lab.

"Hey, I need to borrow Crys for a moment, Prime wants to talk with her."

Crystal dumbly pointed to herself. "Optimus Prime wants to talk to me?"

"He sure does," Jazz grinned. "It will be quick and you're not in trouble, I promise."

* * *

Crystal also wasn't the only one invited to the meeting. Prowl was there as well when Jazz led her into Optimus Prime's office. The Autobot leader himself offered her a seat while he remained standing, leaning against his desk. Jazz and Prowl remained standing as well. Crystal felt uncomfortable sitting with the three of them towering over her, but she couldn't very well tell Optimus Prime no when a seat was offered. So she sat, gripping the arm rest.

"I'm sure you've heard some talk about the transfer coming up," Optimus began. "We're shuttling some new Autobots down from Cybertron in a few days."

Crystal nodded. "One of them is an Autobot called Perceptor. He's going to help design a new operating system for me."

Optimus nodded, but Crystal suddenly felt fear going through her. Was he going to tell her that this Perceptor wasn't coming after all?

"Yes, he is being transferred," Optimus confirmed. "As well as a few others. My concern is, as of right now, only the Autobots here at the Ark know of your existence. When the new transfers arrive, they will have to be briefed on your situation."

"Um, okay," Crystal nodded, becoming more unsure as to why she was called into the office in the first place.

"My largest concern," Optimus continued, “is that we will be having a visitor that is only staying for a week. His name is Ultra Magnus and he is the lead commander of the Autobots on Cybertron. All of the other transfers have been on Earth before and have had experience with humans. This will be Ultra Magnus' first time here. I will be spending the week familiarizing him with Earth and the life forms that live here. However, I do not believe on this visit, it is a good idea to tell him about you."

Crystal sat silently, trying to take this in as Optimus went on.

"Eventually the goal is to integrate you into full Cybertronian society, Crystal. But it will be in small steps and I do not feel this is the right time to make this step."

"So you want me to become invisible for a week," Crystal surmised.

"I know that is a lot to ask, and I am sorry," Optimus said. "But I feel it is for the best."

"We have come up with a plan," Prowl offered. "Aside from the base tour, Ultra Magnus is going to be so busy with other duties, that there will be several places on the Ark he will never visit again. You will be free to roam those areas most of the time and we will have a unit keeping track of Ultra Magnus at all times so the area can be vacated as necessary."

"That's fine," Crystal said. "If that's what you need, I can do it. It could be like a game." She smiled at the two seconds. "With Prowl and Jazz watching out for me, it will be no problem."

Prowl frowned.

"Uh.. actually," Jazz put in sheepishly. "Prowl and I won't be here."

Crystal's expression fell.

* * *

"Hey! There you are!"

Crystal instantly latched onto Jazz's arm as Bluestreak jumped in front of them.

"I went to Wheeljack's lab and he said you left, so I've been looking around for you and here you are." He paused when he noticed the situation: Crystal hugging Jazz's arm and Jazz looking very comfortable with it.

"Jazz," Bluestreak greeted in a stiffer tone, eyeing Jazz accusingly.

"Bluestreak," Jazz responded carefully. Usually the gray Autobot was more than happy to see him.

The three of them eyed each other, Bluestreak accusing, Jazz confused and Crystal uncomfortable.

"Oh! I have to find Blaster!" Crystal announced. "He's going to get transferred. I need to go see him."

"No, you don't," both Bluestreak and Jazz said at the same time in the same tone.

They both looked surprised at the other's statement and then glared each other down. Crystal could almost swear she saw sparks flying between them like in the cartoons. She took this opportunity to leave them behind.

* * *

"Hot Rod, get off the consul," Ultra Magnus said in his usual calm voice. He didn't look up as he ran a final diagnostics on the shuttles systems. It was almost time to launch.

The order was ignored by the much younger and brighter painted Autobot. "Come on, Mags, let me go to Earth with you. It will just be for a few days. I can fly a shuttle. Let me go."

Ultra Magnus didn't even look up. "We've been through this Hot Rod. This isn't a pleasure trip. I don't have time to learn everything Optimus Prime wants me to and baby-sit you at the same time."

"I don't need to be baby-sat!" Hot Rod shot back. "I know how to behave myself!"

"Shut your trap and get the slag off that consul!" Kup barked harshly as he came into the shuttle. This time Hot Rod did as he was told.

"You ask about going to Earth one more time and I'll give you something to keep you too busy to worry about it!"

Ultra Magnus surveyed his crew, taking note of who was at their stations and who had yet to arrive. It was a small crew. It would be even smaller on the trip back. After dropping off the transfers on Earth, he would have just enough Autobots to be able to handle the ship's return to Cybertron. Having so little crew members was risky. Even though the Decepticons—especially the Cybertron Decepticons—had been extremely quiet lately. He didn't like it.

All this had been Optimus Prime's idea and if asked his opinion, Ultra Magnus would have to say that something didn't add up. Ever since Optimus Prime and his lost crew had reported they still lived after eons of nothing, Optimus had always been up front with Ultra Magnus. Magnus had been the official leader of the Autobots for a very long time. He had plenty of time to conform the faction and run it the way he thought was best. To have The Prime suddenly show up again made Magnus worry if such a sudden change in leadership would unravel all he had built.

But it was not to be. Optimus insisted on remaining on Earth as long as Megatron occupied it and gave Magnus every bit as much authority over Cybertron as he had before. Optimus Prime seemed to understand the politics of the situation better than Magnus thought he would. The two kept a very honest and open dialog between them so they could continue to keep the Autobot faction running as smoothly as possible.

Only after a few years of their occupation of Earth, Optimus began requesting transfers from Cybertron to slowly integrate his troops back to their home planet and also to get other Autobots acquainted with their new allies on Earth. Most of the transfers were Autobots that had worked directly under Optimus Prime and remembered him well from before. Warpath, Beachcomber, Cosmos, Tracks, Hoist, Grapple, Blaster and many more had gone to and fro as de facto ambassadors between the two planets. And with every transfer, Optimus had always been specific of who he wanted on Earth and who he was sending back and why.

This time, however, it felt a bit slapdash. Optimus Prime wanted Perceptor, that had been very clear. Why he wanted him, however, was not so clear. And when Ultra Magnus pressed that without a very good reason, a transfer of only one Autobot was not worth the resources spent, Optimus came back to him a few weeks later with this little gem of an idea.

A massive transfer plus a temporary trade off of some high ranking officers as a "learning experience" Optimus Prime had called it. Ultra Magnus still wasn't sure what the Autobot leader was after, but he was willing to entertain the idea.

Optimus added Smokescreen, Red Alert, and Powerglide to his list of transfers. They seemed to be picked at random. But if that was the game he wanted to play, then Magnus wanted his architects back—Hoist and Grapple—to build new bunkers. Windcharger with his magnetic field would help nicely. He also wanted his communications specialist, Blaster, back as well.

Optimus agreed and both began to prepare for the large and very nontraditional trade off.

The Cybertron shuttle was almost ready. Along with the four Autobots Optimus requested, Ultra Magnus was also taking Inferno, Beachcomber, and Skids—all Autobots who had been to Earth before—to help him fly the shuttle back to Cybertron.

"So, you're going to stay on Earth for a week and we're going to get stuck with Optimus Prime's second-in-command doing your job?" Hot Rod asked.

"Both his seconds," Kup informed him.

Hot Rod laughed. "He has two seconds? Mags hardly has one, I mean, if you even count Kup as a second."

"I'm Security Director! It's the same as a second, you punk!" Kup growled.

"I'm just saying, this Optimus Prime doesn't sound so legendary. It seems like he just gets everyone else to do stuff for him.”

Kup was about to shoot smoke from his audios. "You slaggin ingrate! That Autobot is a hero and a legend! You wouldn't know that kind of greatness if it shoved its foot up your tailpipe!"

Hot Rod made a great show of not caring about being yelled at.

Ultra Magnus shook his head. He really couldn't fathom why Kup took on this young Autobot as an apprentice when he easily set the older Autobot off on a daily basis.

"That's everybody, Chief," Springer said as he walked into the shuttle with Red Alert and Inferno. The former walked in slowly with the latter practically pulling him in.

Springer handed his roster to his commander. "You're all set to go. Travel safe Magnus."

"You stay safe as well," he nodded.

As Kup, Hot Rod, and Springer all exited the ship, their leader called after them.

"And be nice to the new guys."

Kup nodded while Springer gave an impish "Who, me?" expression.

Ultra Magnus gave them one last warning look before the door shut behind him and the shuttle was launched. The Autobots watched as their leader flew off to a planet they had only seen in pictures.

* * *

Crystal hugged Blaster tight as the other Autobots scheduled for departure loaded onto Omega Supreme. Mirage was practically dancing as he ran inside. He was not scheduled to stay, but he was allowed to be a crew member and would enjoy a brief stint on Cybertron for a whole week. That was certainly better than nothing.

"I'm going to miss you, Blaster," Crystal said sadly.

"Aw, I'll miss you, too, babe," Blaster replied, his arms around her shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll definitely come back for you as soon as I can."

His hands started traveling lower and Jazz slapped them away. He pulled Crystal backwards toward him and hugged her shoulders from behind.

"Yeah, say bye to Blaster. He'll be gone for a long, long time," Jazz said with satisfaction.

Blaster frowned at him. "You're leaving, too."

"Yeah, but I'm coming back!"

"But you will still be missed," Crystal said as she turned and hugged Jazz around the neck.

Blaster frowned while Jazz grinned smugly at him.

"We're almost ready to go," Prowl announced as he approached.

Crystal let go of Jazz and threw her arms around Prowl.

"Travel safe, okay?"

Prowl was momentarily taken aback by the embrace, but managed to catch his balance and put a hand awkwardly on her shoulder.

"Uh, yes. We will do our best."

He pulled away with a sound akin to clearing his throat. "I have asked Bluestreak to look after you while we're gone. If you need anything, you can just ask him."

Crystal schooled her expression when she noticed the grinning Bluestreak standing near them. She fought the urge to give the cliche' line "I don't need anyone to look after me!" Really, she had plenty of Autobots looking after her. Wheeljack was going on the shuttle with Mirage to help with the return flight. But if she still needed anything, she had Ratchet looking after her, or Brawn, or even Sunstreaker. Why was Prowl asking her to go to her new stalker for assistance? She hardly even knew him.

"Bye Prowl!" Bluestreak said as he suddenly hugged Prowl in a similar fashion as Crystal had.

Prowl, again, looked uncomfortable at the show of affection and Crystal was frowning. That was weird. Was this Bluestreak making fun of her?

Prowl allowed Bluestreak to let go of his own accord and then put his hand on the gray Autobot's shoulder.

"Don't let Smokescreen near her," Prowl said in a low voice only Bluestreak could hear.

He looked a bit surprised at the request, but nodded to Prowl that he understood.

Crystal watched at the shuttle, trying to keep her face neutral, but inside, she didn't like it. It was bad enough Blaster was going to be gone for an indefinite amount of time. But she and Wheeljack had gotten close and it went without saying she cared very much for Jazz and Prowl. She liked Mirage, too. She wasn't stupid, she knew this trip had its dangers. She would miss them and she prayed they would all come back safely.

Even though she was trying to hide it, Jazz seemed to sense something was wrong. He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his optic band.

"I'll bring you back something pretty, okay?" he grinned.

Crystal smiled and wrapped both her hands around his. "Just come back, Four. That's all I want."

Jazz reclaimed his hand and saluted. "Yes ma'am! Anything the lady wishes."

Crystal shook her head. "Dork."

"Have a safe trip everyone," Bluestreak called. He put an arm around Crystal's shoulder as he waved them good-bye.

Crystal, in turn, gave him a suspicious look, then managed to wave herself as the Autobots all climbed into the massive space shuttle called Omega supreme and shut the door behind them. This was going to be an interesting time.

* * *

Even with space jumping, Cybertron was so far away, it was a two day journey. That gave the Earth Autobots two days to prepare for their guests.

It was decided that Crystal would stay in the back cave of the Dinobot's lair whenever she needed to be completely invisible. It took a while to explain to Grimlock what was going on and why she needed to stay hidden from this Ultra Magnus. In the end, it wasn't certain he understood it all, but he agreed that the Dinobots would let her stay there for the week.

Crystal seemed to already be quiet good at making herself invisible. Sunstreaker had been wandering the base for a while in search of her and could not find her anywhere. Then, he was suddenly grabbed by the arm and yanked down a hallway. Sunstreaker found himself shoved against the wall with Crystal on her tip toes so she could cover his mouth with her hand.

"Sh-h-h!" she warned, pressing all the body weight she could against him to stop the larger Autobot from fighting back. "I'm hiding."

"Mff mmmgh?" Sunstreaker demanded in a high voice against her palm.

Crystal gave him a warning look and then released his mouth.

"From what?" Sunstreaker repeated in a whispered voice. "You practicin'?"

In response, Crystal pressed flat against the wall and peered around the corner. Sunstreaker stretched his taller frame over her to see what she was looking at. All he saw was Bluestreak looking around.

"He keeps following me!" Crystal hissed. "Prowl, for some crazy reason, told him to watch out for me. Now he won't leave me alone!"

Bluestreak turned in their direction and both of them lurched back out of sight.

"Come on," Sunstreaker whispered and pulled her further down the hall. They narrowly squeezed into a small closet and closed the door right as Bluestreak passed by.

Crystal relaxed a little when he seemed to have left the area.

"Am I a bad person that I'm hiding from him?" she asked.

Sunstreaker shrugged with nonchalance. There was no light in the closet. It was too small to need one. The two of them barely fit if they pressed tightly together. The only source of light came from their optics and Crystal could just barely make out Sunstreaker’s facial features in the dim blue light.

"Eh, Bluestreak's alright. He talks a lot, but he's harmless. Too damn happy all the time though," Sunstreaker added with a half frown. "Fragger sometimes gets on my nerves."

"I see." Crystal tried to shift, but it was hard to keep her balance in the small closet. She gasped as she fell forward against him. Sunstreaker was quick to catch them both before he fell over and the two froze, hoping the noise didn't give away their hiding place.

Everything stayed quiet.

"Hey," Sunstreaker whispered. "Just to let you know, I sighed my bro and me up for detail duty on you this week. We're going to be like your secret service. Sound fun?"

"You got Sideswipe to agree to it?" Crystal whispered back.

Sunstreaker grinned. "He doesn't know about it yet."

"That's mean!"

"Hey, what's the point of having a little brother when I can't force him to do what I want him to?"

Crystal snickered. Sunstreaker was still holding her tightly against him for support. It felt nice. She could press her cheek right against his spark chamber and feel its rhythm. She really liked that sound. She would press her audio to the chest of any Autobot all day if they would let her.

"Hey Sunshine," she then said. "What does 'fragger' mean?"

Sunstreaker stiffened. "Uh, that's a bad word. Don't ever say it, okay? Girls shouldn't use that kind of language."

"But you say it all the time. Come on, what's it mean?" Then she asked if it had similar meaning to an Earth swear that started with the letter F and Sunstreaker looked thoroughly scandalized to hear it come from her mouth.

"Come on, tell me! Teach me some good Cybertronian swears," Crystal insisted. She slid her tiny finger under his side armor and poked at the sensitive wiring underneath.

"Ack! Stop that!" Sunstreaker barked. He squirmed away from her touch and bumped against a shelf.

"There you are!" Bluestreak announced as he opened the door and revealed the two. His excitement about his find vanished when he noticed the predicament in the closet.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded, directing the question at Sunstreaker. He looked pointedly where the yellow Autobot's arms were pressing the smaller body against him.

"What? I ain't doing nothing," Sunstreaker insisted.

Bluestreak didn't look convinced. "I don't know. I think I'm going to have to tell Prowl when he gets back."

Crystal look confused. Tell Prowl what? Why?

But Sunstreaker's optics widened at the threat.

"Don't be stupid! There's nothing to tell! I wasn't—" He backed up into the shelf behind him and something heavy fell from the top and beaned him in the head. Sunstreaker fell to the ground, thoroughly stunned while the other two stared.

* * *

Omega Supreme was a fitting name for Cybertron's largest Autobot. Even the gestalt teams could not overcome his size. His full power was felt as his massive shuttle form touched down on Iacon's widest lading pad.

The shuttle's door opened and a thin ramp snaked out to the ground. A small reception party waited to greet them as eight Autobots stepped out. Hoist, Grapple and Blaster were familiar, the other five Hot Rod did not recognize.

"Which ones are the seconds?" he whispered to Kup.

The older Autobot had met them before, though it had been briefly and long before the Ark had left Cybertron for good. "The two black and white ones in the front," he whispered.

Hot Rod watched dubiously. They didn't look like such hot stuff. They weren't the largest or most dangerous looking Autobots Hot Rod had ever seen. They looked boring.

"They're not very big," he complained, not caring who heard. “What's the deal about them? I still don't see why there needs to be two of them. One should be enough."

Kup elbowed him roughly in the gut. "If you don't shut up and start showing some respect I'll make sure you're off pulling menial grunt work until they're gone. Then you won't have to worry about what they look like."

Hot Rod stayed quiet as the group of Earth Autobots approached.

"Springer, my main man!" Blaster shoved through the new comers to give the green Autobot a hearty handshake.

"Blaster, how was it on the mudball planet?" he grinned back.

"Not bad, not bad. It's my kind of place, man. You should hear the music they got down there. And the night life, woo! It's fun!"

"Really," Springer marveled. "Heh, maybe one day I'll get transferred."

Prowl approached Kup and saluted smartly.

"Autobot second-in-commander under Optimus Prime, Earth Division, designation Prowl reporting."

Hot Rod stared. That was the most formal Autobot he had ever seen. Even Kup, who was a stickler for rules, didn't act like that. Optimus Prime must keep an extremely tight ship.

"To my left is my fellow second, Jazz."

"Yo."

"This is Windcharger. He's one of ours, but Ultra Magnus requested him."

"Right," Kup nodded to the mini bot. "The magnetic field. We're embarking on some large construction projects. It's good to have you back on the home planet. If you want to go with Hoist and Grapple, they can show you around and get you properly transferred in."

"Yes, sir," Windcharger nodded and followed the two into the base.

"This is our mechanical engineer, Wheeljack," Prowl continued. "And this is..."

"Bye Prowl, I'm outta here!" the blue Autobot called as he ran past them.

"Mirage!" Prowl barked back. "Don’t go too far."

"I know, I'm on call," Mirage said as he transformed. "I'll keep my radio on."

They watched him speed away and Jazz looked back at Kup with a grin.

"He's excited to be here."

"Apparently," Hot Rod quipped.

"Mirage, that's the one with the invisibility field, correct?" Kup asked.

"Yes," Prowl confirmed. "You must excuse him, he has been very homesick."

"Boy, I bet he sure comes in handy," Springer said.

"Yes. He is an invaluable member to the team. He has been wanting to see Cybertron for a while, but we've needed him too much for a transfer. So we're letting him enjoy this vacation."

"That's perfectly fine. By the way, I'm Kup, the security director around here. This is Hot Rod and Springer. They'll be helping me out since Ultra Magnus and Red Alert are absent."

Prowl nodded. "Jazz and I will also be happy to help fill the gap. We are interested in learning as much as possible while we are here."

"And while you do that," Wheeljack poked his head in between the two seconds. "I'm going to hunt down my old lab and see what I can salvage from it. Maybe get some parts ordered for Cr.... you know that thing I'm working on."

Another nod. "Confirmed, you're free to go."

"Radio if you need anything," Wheeljack called as he ran off.

"Well, now that the pleasantries are out of the way," Kup announced. "Let's show you around and get you two to work."

* * *

Crystal sat in the surveillance room with Sunstreaker when the shuttle landed. She eagerly watched the monitor as brand new Autobots exited under the Earth's winter sun.

"That one's Ultra Magnus there," Sunstreaker pointed to the large blue Autobot shaking Optimus Prime's hand.

"He's huge!" Crystal exclaimed. "He might be bigger than Optimus Prime! Ask him to transform, I want to see what it looks like."

"I'm not going to ask him that out of the blue!" Sunstreaker argued. "I'll look like a weirdo!"

"Okay, fine. Who are these other guys?"

"Let's see...that one's Powerglide and there's Smokescreen and that one's Perceptor there."

"Who's the nervous little one being dragged out by the big red one?"

"That's Red Alert. He's a bit jumpy. The other one's Inferno. I don't think he's staying. I think he's going back with Magnus. So are those other two blue ones: Beachcomber and Skids."

"What are you guys looking at?"

The two glanced to the side to find that Bluestreak had magically appeared next to them.

Crystal inwardly sighed. How did you get rid of this guy? He would not stop following her around.

Sunstreaker shared her irritation.

"You don't need to be here, Blue. Why don't you go outside and meet the new guys? If you hang around us, you're going to blow our cover."

Bluestreak looked worried. "But...but Prowl said I needed to watch her..."

"Prowl's not here and Optimus Prime assigned me to that job, so you can go."

Bluestreak slumped his shoulders and his door panels drooped a bit. "But..."

Sunstreaker pointed insistently at the door and Bluestreak finally trudged out.

"You think maybe that was a bit harsh?" Crystal asked. "Now I kind of feel bad. Did you see his face?"

"Meh, he'll bounce right back. He's like that. Don't worry about him."

"So, what's his deal with Prowl? Bluestreak sure talks about him a lot."

"Well, Blue's kind of like Prowl's little brother."

Crystal paused. Even though they looked so much alike, she hadn't considered the possibility that they were related. They acted so different. And, Crystal suddenly realized, she wasn't entirely sure how Cybertronian families actually worked. They were robots. A couple couldn't combine their genetics and form offspring like humans. What exactly made two Cybertronians related?

"They're brothers? Like how you and Sideswipe are brothers?"

Sunstreaker looked a bit irritated at all the questions. "Uh, no. Not really like that."

"How exactly are—"

"We're going to have to talk about this later," he cut her off. "They're going inside to do the base tour. We gotta book it to the Dinobots, come on." He grabbed her hand and they hurried to the back of the base where the alien technology ended and the deep, dirt and ash tunnels began.

Upon arriving, however, it seemed the Dinobots had forgotten all that had been explained to them in detail, multiple times.

“Don't tell me you idiots already forgot the plan,” Sunstreaker demanded.

Slag kept growling at them every time Crystal tried to make her way past him and into the cave.

"But I have to hide in here for the week," she insisted.

"No! That Slag's cave! No share!" Slag insisted.

"Crystal stay in this part," Sludge tried to help. "This Sludge part of cave. It go back far in the dark."

Crystal squinted at the shadow and stepped forward. The cave looked like it stopped because of the way the lack of light played on the walls, but it actually went a lot further.

"Oh, that's perfect," Crystal praised and Sludge looked very proud of himself.

"Okay, so when Ultra Magnus or anyone asks what's in the cave, what do you say?" Sunstreaker prodded.

"We say no can look," Swoop said. "Crystal hiding in there."

Sunstreaker slapped his palm to his face.

"No, no. You can't mention her ever. You can't say anyone is hiding in the cave. If Ultra Magnus wants to go in you—"

"Me Slag say no can go in!" he roared. "Cave belong to Dinobots! No Autobots can have!"

"Excellent!" Sunstreaker gave the surliest of the Dinobots a thumbs up. "That is what you say. Everyone say it like Slag." He tipped his head as a voice came over his radio. "Crap, they're coming. Crys, go hide."

Crystal's optics widened and she scrambled as deep into the cave as she could.

"Keep those optics off," Sunstreaker hissed at her before hurrying back to the mouth of the Dinobot's entrance.

He reached it just in time to see Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus round the corner. Sideswipe was at their heels. As Sunstreaker had said a few days before, he had volunteered they both for Magnus duty. Sideswipe had insisted he would be the one to follow Ultra Magnus and keep his yellow twin informed of his location. That suited Sunstreaker just fine. That meant he could hang out with Crystal all day instead of doing real work.

"At the back end of the base," Optimus was saying as he continued the tour, “is where we keep the Dinobots."

"Di-No-Bots?" Ultra Magnus wondered. The word was unfamiliar to him.

Optimus led them into the large room with dirt strewn on the floor and walls. Ultra Magnus paused at the sight of the metal dinosaurs. Such creatures he had never seen before. Grimlock had followed them in from behind and Ultra Magnus jumped a little when a pair of metal jaws slid next to him.

"This is Grimlock, the Dinobot leader,” Optimus said. “Grimlock, this is Ultra Magnus. He leads the Autobots on Cybertron."

Ultra Magnus was about to ask what exactly he was supposed to be when Grimlock transformed into his robot mode.

"Ah, there we go," Ultra Magnus nodded. "Very interesting alt mode, Grimlock. Very impressive."

“The Dinobots were built to give our forces more muscle," Optimus explained. "They were created here on Earth by our technicians. Their behavior is a bit different than what Autobots are used to. Their instincts are on the primal side and they like to stay in their beast alt modes most of the time, but they are very good at doing their jobs and are a vital part of our team."

"So you Ultra Magnus live on Cybertron?" Grimlock wondered.

"Yes," Magnus nodded. "I have been on Cybertron most of my life. This is my first time here on Earth."

"Me Grimlock go to Cybertron before on accident. See deep in the planet. It not so great place."

Ultra Magnus smirked. "Maybe you need a tour guide to show you around. If you ever drop by Iacon, I'll make sure you see Cybertron the way it was meant to be seen."

Grimlock rubbed his chin in thought. "Yes, me Grimlock think me do this sometime."

"Excellent," Ultra Magnus agreed. "I look forward to it."

Grimlock seemed pleased with Ultra Magnus, and so was Optimus Prime. Truth be told, it had been a long time since they had worked together and he really wasn't sure how the Cybertron Autobot would react to the Earth base. But he seemed to be doing quite well. Perhaps one day they would be able to trade command posts and he could, at last, begin sending his troops home.

"What is this back here?" Ultra Magnus then wondered as he noticed the caves.

"Those are just tunnels the Dinobots like to dig when they've got nothing to do," Sunstreaker answered. "Nothing big."

"Is there anything in there? How big are they?" Ultra Magnus wondered with pure curiosity. He started towards them and all the Dinobots stiffened. What was it they were supposed to say? And what was it they were not supposed to say? None of them could remember. And Slag wasn't even paying attention.

Snarl slapped Slag with his spiky tail.

"NO GO IN CAVES!" he roared automatically with his full fury. "THOSE DINOBOT CAVES! NOT FOR AUTOBOTS!"

Optimus had to pull Magnus out of the way as Slag spat fire in their direction.

"Uh, they're a bit territorial about certain things," Optimus tried to explain.

"Understood," Ultra Magnus nodded. "Everyone deserves their privacy. It was rude of me to pry. Forgive me. Please show me the rest of the base."

Everyone relaxed as they left and Crystal poked her head out.

"Boy, that was close," Sunstreaker sighed. "Hopefully that display will keep him from nosing around." He turned and gave Crystal a crooked smile. "Just gotta keep it up for six more days."

"Fuuuuun," Crystal groaned. "I'm looking forward to it already."

* * *

Ultra Magnus looked up when he heard a knock on his office door. After his tour of the base and meeting a few of the Ark's staff, he had been given an office where he could rest after his trip and work on the reports he planned to take back with him. The office, he was told, was usually used by Prime's two seconds. Since they were on Cybertron, Ultra Magnus was free to use it as he wished and make himself at home.

It took him a while to find the command to open the office door.

"Come in."

Smokescreen casually walked in like he owned the place. But then again, that Autobot walked everywhere like he owned the place.

"Hey boss, how do you like it so far?" he asked as he nosed around the office. The office was exactly the way it had been the last time the blue Datsun had visited Earth. That was Prowl for you. He never changed a thing.

"It's a very interesting base of operations," Ultra Magnus responded. "It's small, but tight knit. Homey even."

Smokescreen leaned against the desk. "Yeah well, when you got no other home to go to, you make what you can of what you got. But you're right. These Autobots have had no one but themselves to rely on for a while. They're tight. And while they seem to take new members easily, I wonder how easy it will be for them to leave their little nest they made here."

"They're still solders and fine ones at that. They'll be alright," Ultra Magnus insisted. "From what I gather, most are ready to leave, to see what Cybertron has become while they were gone."

"I'm sure Optimus Prime agrees with you or else he wouldn't have invited you down here. But there's still something going on here that doesn't seem quite right."

Ultra Magnus looked up, intrigued. Smokescreen wasn't an overly paranoid bot by any extent. But he had a nose for picking out things that didn't belong. It made him very good at his job. So when he said something wasn't right, Ultra Magnus was all ears.

"How so?" he tested.

Smokescreen shook his head. "I'm not sure yet. But I can't shake the feeling that the base feels a bit more...guarded since the last time I came. Like Sideswipe. I don't buy that he's following you around to assist you or whatever Prime told you. It feels more like he's there to keep on eye on you. The guy's staking out your door right now."

"Really," Ultra Magnus said. "So, it seems Optimus Prime is hiding something from me. Maybe even to the extent that this whole base is hiding something from all of us. Do you think that's something I should be worried about?"

"Worried? Nah. This is Optimus Prime we're talking about. He hardly has the spark for conspiracy. I doubt it's anything to be concerned about. It just makes me..."

"Curious?" Ultra Magnus finished with a smile.

"Doesn't it you?" Smokescreen grinned back.

Ultra Magnus gave a look that said he would be lying if he said no.

"Want me to look into it, Boss, and see what I can find?" Smokescreen prodded, his optics flickering with intrigue.

"Don't stir up too much dust. And be discrete. We are guests here, after all. Just keep me posted."

Smokescreen saluted, grinning. "Yes, sir!"

* * *

A lone white and black Autobot stood atop one of the towers overlooking Iacon. The city base was worn and a little dingy, but still glittered in the permanent twilight of the Cybertronian sky. He remained silent as he then looked out to the dark landscape beyond Iacon's protective walls. Whatever he was thinking was kept internally and never showed on his face. His door panels twitched, however, when he felt someone stand behind him and he turned to see who it was.

"Good to be home, huh Prowl?" Jazz greeted.

"It is our home, isn't it?" Prowl asked quietly. "It's where we belong."

Jazz remained quiet, sensing Prowl wasn't done.

"I don't think of it that much, Jazz. A base is a base to me, and I think too much about running the internals than what it looks like outside. I had forgotten how different it feels to be in this city—on this planet."

"Different like how?" Jazz asked. He had a feeling he already knew the answer. But he always liked hearing how Prowl put things.

"It feels...dead somehow," Prowl mused. "Bright, full of energy, but dead all the same. Nothing else lives here but us. Nothing else slithers or flies or grows or breathes. There's just us. And the Decepticons. That never seemed strange before. Now it feels a bit lonely, desolate."

Jazz grinned. "Lonely because you miss Earth and all its critters in general or lonely because there's certain individuals not here with you?"

Prowl gave him a sidelong glance, but didn't answer.

"I get what you mean," Jazz then said. "And I agree. But I like being home. It puts a little something extra in my spark to see this place again."

"I agree. It is still home after all."

"Makes me miss my Cybertron alt mode. I think when I get stationed here permanent, I'm going to get it back. The ladies couldn't keep their hands off my alt mode. It was sleek and sexy."

A hint of a smile tugged at the side of Prowl's mouth. "But who will fawn over it now?"

"Hey, there's still females out there. They're just not on the surface is all."

"Indeed," Prowl agreed. "I keep wondering why that is. From the reports I've read, Cybertron doesn't see nearly as much Decepticon war activities as it used to. I wonder why they haven't come back up."

"Because there's nothing left to come up for, maybe," Jazz mused, leaning forward to rest his arms on the rail. "Most of the cities are a mess, the others have been turned into military bases." He stood up straight again. "Maybe that should be our goal when we finally come back here for good. We need to unite all the Autobots and work on getting this place more shipshape."

Prowl threw him another glance. "Now who is lonely?"

Jazz laughed. "I'm sure I'm not the only one. So what do you think of that tour we got? Quite an interesting experience. Is it just me or does being an Autobot seem like a whole different job these days than when we left?"

"It is. When Megatron disappeared with us, the Decepticon passion seemed to die down here. They were still trying to gain control, but the game here was different with Shockwave in charge. Megatron always used brute force to get what he wanted. Shockwave is more slippery. The reports say he has quite a few underground deals going on, not only on Cybertron, but with other planets as well. And that is the biggest difference for this planet between then and now.

“Earth will never have any close intergalactic relationships. Not even with Cybertron. It has its own galaxy, it’s an island planet unto itself. They didn’t even know there was life out there until we showed up. Our planet, however, we’re on a galactic highway. And with those many millions of years, without Megatron blowing everything up, other cultures and planets have been doing deals with Decepticons and Autobots alike. Ultra Magnus is half military commander, half foreign affairs. Being the leader of the Autobots is an entirely different job than it was before we left Cybertron.”

Jazz was thoughtful for a moment. “Think we’ll make good politicians, Prowl?”

Prowl frowned.

“Yeah, it’s not for me, either. You think the future Cybertron will still have some need for a couple of old soldiers like us after it’s all over?”

Prowl continued to gaze out over the lights of Iacon. “It has always been my hope that it won’t, Jazz.”

* * *

It was night on Earth and heavily overcast. But even without exterior lights, Ultra Magnus noticed it was not dark outside. Snow fell heavily from the sky, coating the world in a new blanket. Everything from the ground to the sky looked white and it reflected off each other, giving the landscape an unearthly glow.

Ultra Magnus had never seen a snowy night before. He had read about it. He knew that Earth had seasons in many places and that it was now winter when he arrived. He knew the mechanics of Earth’s atmosphere and the science of air pressure and temperature and precipitation. But it wasn’t the same as seeing it with his own optics.

Large feet crunched in the snow behind him. His own foot prints were the first time he had ever heard such a sound and he decided he would like to keep it in his memory banks.

“So, what do you think so far?” Optimus Prime asked as he joined Ultra Magnus.

It was a moment of thoughtful silence before the blue Autobot responded.

“I could have researched this planet for countless cycles more and still would not be prepared for it. As I understand it, during this time of their year, many living things sleep and wait for warmer weather. Even then, as soon as I stepped on this planet, I could feel life all around me. It was as if the very Earth moved and breathed. It was a bit disconcerting at first. I’ve never felt so out of place.”

“I know what you mean.” Optimus nodded as he clasped his hands behind his back and followed Ultra Magnus’ gaze over the white countryside. “I remember when we first arrived here. The things we expected to be alive weren’t and everything else was. It is indeed the very opposite of everything we are.”

“And this,” Ultra Magnus said in a soft voice. “The day is teaming with sound and life, but tonight, while this frozen, flaky matter falls, all sound is swallowed and hushed. I feel like I am breaking some protocol just for speaking out here.”

Optimus made a sound of agreement. “I'm glad you decided to come down and see this planet for yourself. I believe it is important for us to keep ties with Earth, even if the Decepticons do eventually leave it, which I pray every day they do. And I also hope that you will agree after this week is over.”

“I must admit, your invitation was intriguing, Prime, even if the request and everything about this trade seemed very suspicious.”

Ultra Magnus gave a sidelong glance at his leader. It was an invitation to explain himself, but Optimus Prime didn’t take it.

“And yet you still agreed anyway, Magnus. Would I be correct in assuming that it is because Earth itself intrigues you?”

“Even if it didn’t, I had to come,” Ultra Magnus insisted calmly. “I needed to experience this feeling of being on this planet and to know what it’s like to be surrounded by my own kind and feel like a stranger among them. More than anything, I want to understand what it will be like for you when you return home.”

* * *

Megatron growled at the screen. Horrible Earth weather. It always interfered with their communications. Whatever Lazerbeak had recorded at the Autobot base, they had to wait for him to return before it could be seen instead of getting the feed live during clear days.

“Well?” he asked impatiently as Soundwave went through the cassette’s data in his chest.

“Suspicions confirmed,” he warbled as he plugged into the main screen. “Galactic space shuttle stationed outside Autobot base. All data indicates shuttle itself is neither Autobot nor sentient.”

“It’s just a regular shuttle, is it?” Megatron scratched his chin in thought. “That may be useful to us. We may have to...emancipate it from the Autobots.”

“Because Primus forbid you build your own,” Starscream grumbled.

“Do YOU want to gather the material and then build me a space shuttle, Starscream?” Megatron challenged.

Starscream gave a lazy frown. He most certainly did not. He didn’t even want to bring up the fact that it was near impossible to make a proper shuttle even with what they could steal. The humans just didn’t possess the technology to get them past their own solar system.

“Lazerbeak reports shuttle held eight Autobots,” Soundwave continued.

Several pictures flashed on the screen along with reports on each Autobot as he was identified by the information files within the Decepticon base. Megatron knew them all. They had been on Earth before. Save one.

“This Autobot, who is he?” he demanded as he jabbed a black finger at the large blue Autobot on the screen.

Starscream shook his head. It had been a very long time since he had worked under anyone other than Megatron. If his leader didn’t know who it was, neither did he.

“I know him.” Blitzwing stepped forward. He with Astrotrain, along with Dirge, Thrust and Ramjet had not been aboard the Ark when it had crashed. They had all joined the Earth Decepticon ranks after the space bridge had been built. Of which was now destroyed by the Autobots a few years prior and they had not been able to rebuild it since.

“That’s Ultra Magnus. He’s the leader of the Autobots on Cybertron. Has been for a while.”

“Interesting...” Megatron mused to himself. “Why would Prime bring him to Earth?” He raised his voice, addressing his troops. “Decepticons, I think we should acquire ourselves a new space shuttle, and I think it’s time this Autobot commander knew the name of Megatron.”

**To Be Continued...**


	9. Stranger Part Two

**The Autobot Files**

**File #009 - Stranger Part 2**

Wheeljack's lab was considered one of the safer places to hang out while Ultra Magnus occupied the Ark. It was cleaner and less crowded than the Dinobot's tunnels and with Wheeljack himself on Cybertron, as far as Ultra Magnus was concerned, the lab was closed and empty for the duration of his stay.

"This will be our party room for the week," Crystal announced as she fiddled with her homemade radio, looking for a station she liked.

"Just keep the party room down until Prime takes Ultra Magnus into the city," Brawn warned. He was loitering in the lab along with Sunstreaker and Trailbreaker.

"I haven't heard anything from Sideswipe," Sunstreaker confirmed. "I think he's still in his office, so they haven't left yet."

"But it's not like they're going to suddenly come down here," Crystal insisted. "This place is way out of the way. No one's going to hear us." She turned to a station where a lively tune from an all-girl singing group filled the room.

“If you wanna be my lover, gotta get with my friends. Make it last forever. Friendship never ends.”

“Oh my gosh!” Crystal laughed. “I haven’t heard this song in forever!” She immediately began singing to it.

"You might want to keep that frackin' music down until they actually leave," Sunstreaker warned.

Trailbreaker snorted at him. "Did you just say 'fracking'?"

"Yeah, what of it?" Sunstreaker challenged.

"You going to church now or something?"

"No! Shut up!" Sunstreaker kicked at him.

"Come on, say frag."

"Leave me alone!"

"What does frag mean?" Crystal demanded over them. "No one will tell me!"

Despite Sunstreaker's efforts, Trailbreaker told her. Crystal still looked confused.

"I don't get it," she said.

"It doesn't translate well," Trailbreaker continued. "There really isn't a word in the human language that's its equivalent, so we use that one instead."

"Stop teaching her that stuff!" Sunstreaker complained. "She doesn't need to know!"

"I have to agree, Trailbreaker," Brawn said. "Language like that doesn't suit females."

"I'll have to teach you some of the words I know," Crystal quipped, much to Sunstreaker's apparent despair.

She took the yellow Autobot's hand and pulled him out into the open space.

"Don't worry about it, Sunshine. Come dance with me."

The door to the lab opened and Ultra Magnus himself poked his head in. The music was still playing with Brawn and Trailbreaker staring at the Autobot commander. No one else seemed to be present in the room.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting anything," Ultra Magnus said. "I just heard noise. I thought this lab was closed."

"Uh... yeah," Trailbreaker fished for an explanation. "We were just...cleaning out Wheeljack's lab while he was gone. To surprise him."

Ultra Magnus nodded. "That's nice of you. And you're listening to...is that Earth music?"

"Oh yeah," Brawn insisted. "I...love the...Spice Girls...” He sounded like a bit of his spark died at that statement.

There was a sound like a snort from under the work table in the middle of the room and Brawn reflectively kicked it.

Ultra Magnus stared at him.

"Oh, these inventions of Wheeljack’s. Sometimes they just sputter to life for no reason. He's got a lot of partial creations lying around," Brawn grinned.

"Anything we can do for you, sir?" Trailbreaker then said with a tone that stated if the answer was no then he should leave.

"No, thank you," Ultra Magnus said. There was almost disappointment in his voice. "Please carry on."

After he shut the door behind him, a yellow foot shot out from under the table and kicked Brawn back.

"Wow, that was close," Crystal said as she climbed out. "He's a bit nosy, isn't he?"

"You're lucky I have lightning fast reflexes," Sunstreaker told her and then opened his radio to Sideswipe. "Hey bro, what gives? You watching Magnus or not? He just appeared in Wheeljack's lab out of nowhere!"

There was a pause on the other end.

"Serious?" came Sideswipe's incredulous voice.

"Yeah, we almost got caught."

"I've been standing outside his office all morning. He must have snuck out somehow. I think he's onto us, Sunny!"

"That fr—that guy is sharper than I thought. We'll have to let Prime know and change our strategy. Sunstreaker out."

Crystal frowned as she heard Sunstreaker's side of the conversation. "I'm going to be practically living in those caves, aren't I?"

* * *

Bluestreak watched from the surveillance room. The Ark's outside camera showed Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus transforming and driving off toward the city. Now that he was safely away from the base, Bluestreak could find Crystal and see how things were going with her. He knew Sunstreaker had been assigned to her personally through the week and she probably didn't need him. But he had promised Prowl he would watch out for her. The least he could do was pop in to check every now and then.

"Hello, Bluestreak," came a low voice from behind him.

Startled, he spun around. He hadn't even heard anyone come into the room. The widely grinning form of Smokescreen loomed over him and Bluestreak gave a shrill cry as he was attacked.

* * *

Back on Cybertron, Jazz wandered down the halls of the main Autobot base in Iacon. He pretended not to notice all the looks and the whispers that went on in his wake. He could just feel the dubious atmosphere at the sight of him. He was an extremely high ranking officer, but he had not stepped foot on Cybertron for millions of years. The hesitance he felt from the other Autobots was understandable. They didn't know him at all and yet, were expected to follow his commands. Jazz had to admit if he was in their place, he would be just as suspicious. There was definitely some wisdom in Optimus Prime's decision to send him and Prowl out here. They needed to test the waters. To give a small demonstration of what they could do. To show they were still capable of commanding Autobot forces and that they had just as much consideration for the safety of the Cybertron troops as their own.

Jazz just wondered if such an opportunity would come.

He took another step and a blue Autobot jetted in front of him. He moved so fast, Jazz could hardly see him come in. The Autobot stood at attention, saluting and words seemed to fly effortlessly out of his mouth."

"SecondincommandJazz,sir. It'sanhonortomeetyou,itreallyis! MynameisBlurrandIhaveheardallaboutyou. Ifyouneedanything,anythingatallyoujustcallmedon'tevenhesitatejustaskformeandI'llbethererightaway!"

Jazz took a moment to process before responding.

"Uh yeah, nice to meet you too, man." He then grinned, grabbed Blurr's hand and shook it.

Blurr was a bit lost on the human greeting, but he immediately caught on and shook Jazz's hand quite vigorously.

"Goodtomeetyoutoo! Thehonorisdefinitelydefnitelyallminesir! ExcusemeIneedtoreportin."

"Uh.. carry on then, Blurr. Catch you later."

Blurr saluted in the blink of an eye and was gone. Jazz was left alone rubbing his elbow. The joint felt like it was knocked loose after such a strong, fast shake.

"You catch most of that, lad?" Kup asked in amusement as he approached.

"Yeah, you cut that speed in half and you practically got Bluestreak. It's cool."

"Cool, huh?" Kup wondered. "Ya know, a lot of Autobots around here have been very curious to meet Prime's seconds. We've heard about you two. Though I have to admit, Jazz, no offense, but you're not really what I was expecting. Prowl on the other hand..."

Jazz chuckled. "Yeah, I used to get that a lot from before. Let's just say Prowl's enough for the both of us. I just pick up the slack."

Kup gave him a non too convinced look. He knew more than anyone that one could not judge an Autobot by their design or the way they conducted themselves. He wasn't exactly the most imposing or the most professional security director ever built, but slag it if he wasn't a damn good one.

"So, I've been meaning to ask you," Jazz then said. "What's the deal with my tail? Do you really not trust me that much?"

Kup frowned. "What do you mean, boy?"

Jazz jerked his head sideways and Kup turned to see the very bright and conspicuous form of Hot Rod peeking around the corner and glaring suspiciously at him. Kup made an expression of distaste.

"Gah! Ignore him. He's an idiot. Slagging young punk's got no respect for anything."

Jazz gave a crooked grin. "Reminds me of myself when I was young and stupid."

"You're still young..." Kup shot back automatically.

"And stupid?" Jazz grinned back, feeling the end of the sentence hanging in the air.

Kup opened his mouth to respond, but a radio transmission beat him to it.

"Kup, we've got a bit of a...delicate situation here," Springer's voice came over the radio. "I need you in the communications tower ASAP."

Kup looked up at Jazz. "Ready to do some real work?"

Jazz’s expression brightened. “That’s what I’m here for.”

* * *

In a small office sat two Auobots, lights dim around them as if they were in hiding. The smaller white and red one looked down at his hands, trying to hunch into himself while the larger red one looked over him, almost in accusation.

"So what are you going to do, Red?" Inferno finally spoke. "You just gonna stay in here your entire transfer? Optimus isn't going to be too happy about that. And I'm only going to be here for a week. I can't be your crutch after I'm gone."

"I know that!" Red Alert snapped back and then immediately looked sorry.

"Look Red," Inferno sighed. "Why don't you at least try going on duty for a while? Prowl's not here; they probably need you to pick up the slack. Your early warning system has been fixed. It's not going to happen again."

"But everyone still remembers that it happened, Inferno, that's the problem. Didn't you see how they all looked at me when I got here? They're just waiting, expecting me to fritz out again."

"Well I don't know about--"

"They ARE!" Red Alert insisted as he stood up. "I joined up with Starscream, for Primus sake! I led him into our stronghold! A place that's supposed to be safe! I betrayed everyone! No wonder they no longer trust me."

“Everyone knows it wasn't your fault," Inferno argued calmly. "Nobody could have predicted that your systems would react that way once on Earth. But now you're fixed and you have the opportunity to prove to everyone that you are trustworthy. You can do this job just as good as Prowl or Kup."

Red Alert's shoulders slumped at the idea.

"So how about it, Red?” Inferno challenged. “You want to give it a try? I'm sure you'll do fine. And if something does go wrong, think of this as a trail period. If you feel you can't handle it, after the week, we could probably get Ultra Magnus to take you back with him."

"I...guess..."

"Come on, you'll do fine!" Inferno encouraged, slapping his shoulder. "I'll be here with ya, so just jump into it with both feet and I'll keep an eye on you, okay?"

"I suppose I could," Red Alert sighed. "I heard it's been really quiet with the Decepticons lately. I suppose if nothing big happens, I should be okay."

The door was kicked open and a gray Autobot was shoved into the room, tied and gagged.

Red Alert thought he was going to fritz out right then and there.

"Bluestreak?! What—" He looked up at Bluestreak's attacker, optics wide.

A deep blue bot with a sinister grin stood in the doorway.

"Smokescreen!" Inferno barked as he stood. "What in tarnation do you think you're doing?"

"Just a little questioning is all.” He spoke as if it were an everyday occurrence as he shut and locked the door.

"This is highly irregular," Red Alert insisted. "You can't just tie up random Autobots when it fancies you!"

"When there's something fishy going on in the base, I can," Smokescreen said as he grabbed Bluestreak by the back of the collar and dragged him into a chair. "Don't even pretend you didn't notice, Red. I'm sure you did. And Ultra Magnus asked me to look into it. So," he leaned closer to Bluestreak's face. "I'm looking into it."

Bluestreak attempted to talk, but the strip that sealed his mouth wouldn't let him.

Red Alert folded his arms. "If you think I'm going to help you interrogate him, you're sorely mistaken. I doubt this is what Ultra Magnus asked you to do. Besides, Optimus Prime will probably debrief us about it anyway when things slow down."

"But where's the fun in that?" Smokescreen replied. "What exactly do you think it is that they're willing to tell us only when Ultra Magnus leaves? Aren't you the least bit curious?"

A look of mild temptation crossed Red Alert's features, but he stayed strong.

"No, I'll be no part of it. Kidnapping and coercing information out of one of our own; it's hardly proper."

Bluestreak did his best to voice his agreement from behind his gag, nodding enthusiastically.

"Oh come on, this will hardly even be a challenge," Smokescreen insisted. "Blue here will be singing like a canary in a few minutes. He always does."

Bluestreak's tone went up an octave as his muffled voice tried to tell Smokescreen what for.

Inferno stepped in between the two intelligence officers. "Enough of this. I'm untying him."

Just then, warning klaxons sounded throughout the base. Red Alert's optics grew twice their size as his own warning systems kicked in.

"We're under attack!" he bawled. "Who was supposed to be on surveillance duty!?"

It had been Bluestreak. But the only one who knew this and was willing to say was still gagged.

"We'll worry about that later," Smokescreen said as he pulled out his weapon. "Right now we've got some Decepticons to take care of."

Three Autobots rushed out of the room, ready for battle, forgetting all about the forth one still tied up. Bluestreak screamed and fought and, ultimately, fell to the floor. He would not be joining this battle anytime soon.

* * *

"So, what do you think so far?" Optimus Prime asked Ultra Magnus as they finished their verbal tour of Carly's facility.

The two massive Autobots were too large to fit into most of the building. But many of the supervisors were more than willing to come out and speak with the Cybertron Autobot leader. They explained how their establishment was a marriage between Autobot and human technology, and how it all worked together to help the people of their world. Carly herself came out to talk enthusiastically about a few projects and to meet Ultra Magnus. But none of the personnel could stay very long as there were still deadlines to keep and tests to perform.

Previously, Optimus has started his tour with the city. There were only so many places the two could go with their long alt modes. And with Ultra Magnus' blatant Cybertron design, they were practically holding up traffic. But it gave the Cybertron Autobot a taste of how the humans lived and what exactly was at stake with the Decepticon occupation of Earth. Now Prime wanted to know what was on Magnus' processor after all that had been shown to him.

"It is a lot to think about," Ultra Magnus said after a thoughtful pause. "Earth and all its life seems so small and delicate. It almost feels like our mere presence here should have already ripped it apart."

"It is stronger than it looks," Optimus nodded. "But there is still the possibility of our war damaging this planet and its people beyond repair. However, as long as Megatron wants Earth, we have no choice but to stay as well. I can't let this planet fall under his control. Not only for the sake of those living here, but also if Megatron had the resources of this world at his control, there would be no stopping him here or anywhere."

"Indeed," Magnus agreed. "We need to either get him to lose interest in Earth or somehow remove him and take away any route he could use to get back here."

"Easier said than done."

"Agreed."

Mangus paused and then spoke again.

"What exactly are the Dinobots, Optimus? It's been bothering me. I don't recall any information about them in the Cybertron files."

"Er..." Optimus scuffed his foot on the ground. A motion Magnus thought suited younger bots than him. "The Dinobots were built here on Earth, which is why there are no Autobot files on them."

"Yes, their alt modes were built here on Earth. They were based off some ancient primitive Earth beast, if my research is correct. But their original modes..." Mangus eyed Optimus suspiciously. "Where exactly did you get their sparks?"

Optimus scratched at his face mask with one finger. "They were experimental sparks built in a lab before we left Cybertron."

"They're not natural sparks," Magnus accused.

"Yes," Optimus agreed. "They were created well after the sparking technology was lost. Autobot scientists were attempting to find a knew way to cultivate them."

Ultra Magnus frowned. "That kind of research was outlawed millions of years ago. And for good reason. The faux sparks fritzed out of control; they turned on their creators. They were without rational thought, without compassion. They were monsters."

"Those kind of results happened after we left Cybertron, I'm afraid. We had no idea that was the case for the artificial sparks. We took five of the sparks with us with intent to test them inside sentinel drones to help us guard the ship. But then..."

"You crashed," Magnus finished.

"Yes," Optimus agreed. "We were never sure how long we were out. We were unable to communicate with Cybertron. I still had a few scientists on board who wanted to continue with the spark testing. So I allowed it. They built their own bodies to house the sparks."

"So those are the Dinobots. And you haven't had any problems with them?"

"Problems..."Optimus repeated, thinking back to all the damage they had done in the past. The times they had ran away—even when they had joined the Decepticons. Not withstanding all the times Grimlock personally ignored his orders or downright insulted him to his face.

"They certainly have not been without their complications. But they are just as alive and sentient as we are."

"And you had to give them those big, powerful bodies?" Magnus accused.

"We needed them," Optimus insisted. "The Dinobots are big and powerful, yes, but they are not heartless beasts. They are part of the Autobots."

"And you wish to bring them back to Cybertron as well?"

"Eventually, yes. The Dinobots were created on Earth, but I don't doubt they belong on Cybertron. It's larger and sturdier. I think it will be good for them, but when the time is right."

"In that case, I look forward to the opportunity to work with them," Ultra Magnus smiled. "It sounds to be... an interesting challenge."

"Exactly the words I would use," Optimus agreed. Further comment was forgotten as a priority one emergency signal caught his attention. Each Autobot looked at the other and could not believe the content of the SOS: Decepticons were attacking the base.

* * *

"What have we got here?" Kup asked as he walked into the main control room. He was shadowed by Jazz, who was still being tailed in the shadows by a suspicious Hot Rod.

"I've got a transmission from the Atharians,” Springer reported. “They say their prince has been abducted. The kidnappers were last seen headed for the Decepticon side of Cybertron. The royal family is requesting our help in recovering their son."

"Who are they exactly?" Prowl asked. No one had noticed him enter the room.

Kup glared at Springer.

 _Had to tell the whole planet, did you?_ He radioed privately.

 _He's higher rank, Sarge._ Springer shrugged. _Protocol._

"The Atharians and the Zarpanthians," Kup explained out loud. "Come from a planet called Helos. It's an organic planet with these as the only two sentient species. They've spent their entire history fighting over land and power with one another."

"A bit like us, huh?" Jazz observed.

"A bit," Kup agreed. "But unlike us, organics have offspring. The Artharian prince is only a few cycles old. Looks like the Zarpanthians really got them this time."

"So, he's just an infant," Prowl frowned, showing his distaste for the situation.

Kup mirrored his sentiment.

"This is sticky stuff," he frowned. "There's not much we can do. According to Ultra Magnus, we can't get involved in inter-political squabbles. Cybertron trades with both Atharia and Zarpanthia. If one thinks we're favoring the other..."

"Attention Autobots." A deep voice broke the current connection, forcing its way through the speakers. It spoke in Cybertronian, but thickly accented from another culture. "This is the Dark Dragon."

Springer was instantly researching the name.

"This concerns only the country of Atharia. The Decepticons have granted us political sanctuary while our ransom demands are met. We have no intention of hurting the child as of yet. This will be your only warning. Do _not_ get involved."

"The Dark Dragon is an Atharian terrorist group," Springer reported. "They're against their own monarchy. They’ve been trying to overthrow the royal family for a while. They deal in all sorts of trafficking and blackmail. Anything to raise money for their cause.”

Prowl stepped between them and opened a response channel.

"This is Prowl, second-in-command directly under Autobot leader Optimus Prime. Whatever your political reason is, Cybertron will not be involved in such cowardly actions. You may not do business on our planet."

"Now you listen Autobot," the voice fell low in a threatening tone. "We are not intimidated by you. The Dark Dragon are in Decepticon territory and do not answer to you. We—"

"No, you listen to me," Prowl growled in a deathly tone. "If you do not give up that child, Decepticon territory will not hide you from my reach. I will send down a fiery hell upon you if you think for one moment you can use our planet to further your own cowardly goals. No matter in which dark crevasse you hide, I will find you and I will destroy you."

The other end was quiet and then disconnected. Springer searched his scanners.

"They're still descending toward Decepticon air space."

"Nice bluff, lad. You tried," Kup said as he patted Prowl on the shoulder.

The second turned to him, his expression stern. "I wasn't bluffing. I don't tolerate terrorism. Especially those involving innocent, young life forms. Kup, radio the Atharians. Tell them they can send a ship to Iacon to collect their prince."

Before Kup could respond, Prowl turned and started for the door, purposefulness in his stride. "Jazz, let's go."

"Right on!" Jazz eagerly followed after him. “I'll radio Mirage."

“No, I’m afraid I’m going to need him, Jazz. You’ll have to find another for your end.”

"No problem Prowl, I have just the bot." Jazz reached into the shadows and pulled out a startled Hot Rod. "Come on kid, let's get you some field experience."

Prowl looked at Hot Rod and then at Jazz. "You sure?"

Jazz grinned. "Sure I'm sure! No sweat, Prowl."

Prowl turned to address the two Autobots remaining in the communications room. "I will radio further instructions. Please stand by." The door shut after him as they left.

* * *

While it had happened before, it was a rare occurrence to have the Decepticons openly attack the Ark. Usually they preferred head-on battles only after being caught skulking around for energy. So when Megatron and his forces took great pains to call out the brunt of the Autobot army on their own turf, it caught their attention.

Autobots spilled out of the Ark like angry ants at the first sound of the warning klaxon and were met with a slew of seekers and two gestalt teams. Within seconds, the battle was at full force.

In the back of the Ark, the Dinobots heard the muffled alarms and were radioed by Hound, who was running the main command room, to get out post haste and do what they did best against the Decepticons.

"Decepticons attack home!" Slag announced in excitement. "Dinobots attack back!"

"Yes," Grimlock agreed. "Dinobots go kick stupid Decepticons off our lawn."

Crystal stayed back near the caves as she watched the Dinobots thunder off to go do their thing. Sunstreaker was still with her, but he looked grave as he listened to the Autobot radio frequencies. There were sounds of muffled thuds coming from the other side of the Ark's wall.

"Megatron's brought out the big guns," Sunstreaker said in a low, serious voice. "They're calling everyone to the front lines."

Crystal's optics were wide. "Why are they attacking?"

"I don't know." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm going to go out and fight. I want you to hide in the caves and don't come out unless you see someone you know. If you see anyone come in that you don't recognize, stay hidden, okay?"

Under Sunstreaker's hands, Crystal stiffened. She didn't like this feeling of being both helpless and useless. But she nodded and said she would do as she was told before Sunstreaker ran off to join the fray.

Outside, the battle was in full force. The Autobots were stubbornly holding their ground against the attack. But with both Devastator and Menasaur thundering their way, they weren't sure how long that ground would hold.

"Me Grimlock here to crush Decepticons!" Grimlock in dinosaur mode announced as he came onto the scene.

Ironhide stopped shooting long enough to give him a task.

"You Dinobots try ta take down Menasaur. He's getting the closest. Hound thinks they're after the shuttle. We need ta keep them away from it, got it?"

"...what one is that?" Sludge wondered.

"Decepticons all look the same," Snarl grumbled.

"The big dark one near the shuttle ya idjits!" Ironhide barked. "Now get over there!"

Grimlock growled a bit as he lumbered off. "If me Grimlock ever find out what 'idjit' is, him Ironhide may be in trouble," he muttered to himself.

Meanwhile, on a ridge overlooking the fight scene, two large vehicles pulled up, transforming into the two Autobot commanders.

"Primus," Ultra Magnus uttered under his breath. "It's an all out war zone down there."

Any assumptions that it had been a while since Ultra Magnus saw a battle like this Optimus Prime kept to himself as he quickly took in the whole of the situation.

"They're after the shuttle," he surmised.

"I'm an idiot," Magnus groaned. "I didn't even think of it being a magnet for the Decepticons."

"We both let it get past us," Optimus insisted. Though he was sure if Prowl were there, he would have instantly pointed out their mistake. Unfortunately, there was no time to regret his choices. Optimus Prime jumped down toward the battle, Ultra Magnus at his heels.

* * *

"Push the Autobots back!" Megatron ordered through the thunder of battle. Above him, the larger portion of his army jetted around, shooting every Autobot they could see. At his side was Soundwave and at the front lines, Devastator and Menasaur. "Secure the shuttle!"

The Dinobots were upon Menasaur as they had been instructed. They were nowhere near as large, but their strength and fire power were enough to keep him preoccupied. As Megatron tried to bark orders to his seekers to give Devastator cover, he was hit by a heavy blast in the shoulder, causing him to stumble and turn in rage.

"Megatron! Attacking the base while I'm gone!" Optimus called to him. "You're more of a coward than I thought!"

Megatron actually grinned as his shoulder smoked and sparked. As if it fueled his glee at seeing his enemy.

"Prime! Come down here and we'll see who is the coward!"

Optimus was about to retort when the large, blue form of Ultra Magnus threw himself down the side of the hill and slid toward the Decepticon leader.

"I believe you're going to fight with me today, Megatron," he challenged.

Megatron managed to look a bit disappointed and was about to call out Optimus again when Magnus charged, insisting on his attention, and clocked the Decepticon leader right in the jaw.

Actually stunned from such a bold attack from anyone but Optimus Prime, Megatron stumbled and then felt his jaw.

"Don't worry Megatron," Ultra Magnus growled. "I'll make it worth your while. The name's Ultra Magnus."

Megatron grinned. "Very well, Autobot. Have it your way. I'll scrap you and _then_ I'll deal with Prime."

Megatron attacked and Ultra Magnus took it head on while Optimus Prime, his thunder stolen, decided it may be best to rendezvous with his troops and take hold of the situation.

Meanwhile, Menasaur roared in frustration as the five Dinobots surrounded him and were forcing him back into the side of the volcano, away from the shuttle. Slag and Sludge both charged his shins at once and the hulking gestalt lost his balance and fell so heavily into the side of the volcano the ground shook.

Within the back of the Ark, hiding in the caves, Crystal felt the collision so solidly she fell over on her backside. She looked up just in time to see a large part of the cave—and an unidentified metal body—crash on top of her. Then all was black.

* * *

Hot Rod tried not to fidget nervously in the small room. Jazz sat at a computer while Prowl hunched over him. As much as he couldn't believe it, he was hoping Kup would suddenly storm in and save him. Whatever these two lame, two-toned Earth Autobots were up to, he wanted no part of it. They said they were going to go get back some organic prince from another planet, but all they were doing was trying to hack Smokescreen's database. Hot Rod himself considered himself a pretty good hacker and there were those even better than he was that knew _no one_ hacked into Smokescreen's files.

"You guys, I don't know what you're looking for, but you're not going to find anything in there," Hod Rod said. He flinched inwardly at his own tone. If Kup were there, he would have swatted him one for talking like that to such highly ranked Autobots. "Smokescreen triple encodes like everything. I don't know anyone who's broken into his protected information, let alone decrypted it."

Jazz chuckled with amusement as he typed away. "Oh, we'll find it. Don't worry your shiny chassis about that."

Hot Rod frowned at his own paint job. "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure about that?"

"Because," Prowl said in his calm, even tone. "Everything Smokescreen hides is made specifically for me to find."

Before Hot Rod could even begin to ask what that was supposed to mean, Jazz stood up in triumph.

"Got it! Grab the kid and let's get this party started!"

* * *

It was as dark as anything could ever get. No light; just heavy, crushing blackness. Even when she powered on her optics, they couldn't pick up much. She didn't have any kind of night vision all the other Autobots had been equipped with. Not that there would be much to see. She knew what was going on. She knew part of a mountainside had crumbled on top of her. But the fact that she could barely move and she had no idea which way was out had her beginning to panic.

There was shifting in the darkness. Hard flat metal moved around and against her. Crystal sat in an awkward, bent forward position. Her head was pressed into—as near as she could tell the chest of an Autobot who was arched and straining over her. Whomever it was, they appeared to be attempting to hold off as much of the mountain's crushing weight as they could.

"Are you okay?" she heard a muffled voice. It sounded strained and younger than most of the other Autobots. Crystal didn't recognize it.

"I...think so, for now," Crystal whispered, afraid to even move.

Every turn of the head, every twitch and shrug settled the dirt in around them more, separating and burying them completely.

"We need to hold on," the voice told her. "Everyone is fighting. They can't come dig us out until it's over."

Crystal stayed silent. The part of her that was human grew claustrophobic and panicked. It demanded that she could not breathe in here. That the dirt would invade her eyes and throat, that the weight would crush her bones and she would die in minutes. The rational part of her tried to keep calm. She was a robot. She no longer needed air to live. Having dirt in her body anywhere, as far as she knew, was nothing life threatening. And the weight pressing on her was not damaging her metal frame that she could tell.

Still, even as she reassured herself over and over, the anxiety kept coming back. She wanted out of there now. She didn't know if she could wait until the battle was over, however long that would be.

"You scared?" The voice was genuine and gentle. "You don't need to be. You can't die in here, it's just dirt. I promise you'll be alright."

It was at that moment that Crystal noticed she had been shaking. She didn't realize her emotions were able to affect her robot body like that. She stilled herself and took comfort from the words of the nameless Autobot. He kept shifting over her, trying to keep his head close to hers if he needed to talk to her. The movement brought more dirt packing in around them and his torso folding over her didn't help the crushing sensation she felt, but Crystal was glad he was in there with her. Even if she would have been physically fine, mentally, she wasn't sure she would have made it if she had been buried alive all alone.

* * *

Hot Rod was still plenty dubious as he followed Jazz around an older part of Cybertron where—while it was still considered Autobot territory—not many Autobots went. Jazz was not as fast as Hot Rod on the Cybertron roads, due to his Earth alt mode, and the younger Autobot sighed inwardly. Now he had to follow this crazy second-in-command around to Primus knows where. Going slow to boot! How was driving out here in the middle of nowhere going to help anybody?

"We're here," Jazz announced as he stopped and transformed.

Hot Rod did the same and looked around. They were nowhere special. The same as any other run down place around here. Just grayed out, powerless buildings and dingy, cracked streets. The shining gold of Iacon could be seen in the distance, making the area they were in seem even more drab and deteriorated.

"Where exactly is here?" Hot Rod demanded as he stepped distastefully over a pile of rubble.

Jazz was already making his way down some dark alley and Hot Rod loathed to follow, but he did. As much as he didn't want to be here, he didn't want to turn tail and hear Kup's lectures even more.

"You'll see," Jazz said as he stepped fearlessly into the broken down side of a blackened building.

Despite the less than preferred circumstances, Hot Rod's curiosity had been piqued. He gingerly made his way around the rubble and ducked through a passageway after Jazz. The second stopped as he reached a wall that seemed far more structurally sound than the crumbling building around them. There was a small box on the floor that seemed of no consequence until Jazz flipped the top open and revealed a key pad. He typed in a pass code and a small portion of the wall slid open.

"Get in," he invited, and Hot Rod slid inside the small space with the shorter Autobot. The door closed behind them and then floor began to drop.

Hot Rod was startled for a moment, but then settled into silent awe as they sank lower and lower. He couldn't see anything outside the tube, but his internal systems told him they were going deeper into the planet than he had ever been before. It was several minutes of dropping before the tube finally slowed its descent and the door opened.

Jazz stepped out without hesitation while Hot Rod peered around before setting foot on the new ground. They were in a small tunnel now, barely higher than Hot Rod stood. While Jazz walked through it easily, Hot Rod had to duck anytime an extra pipe was strung overhead. It was fairly dark with dimly glowing markers. Just enough to see where they were going even though, as far as Hot Rod could tell, this tunnel had not been used in a very long time.

Normally, if he had been with Kup, Hot Rod would have been filling the small tunnel with all sorts of questions. This time, the young Autobot stayed quiet. Everything around here felt undisturbed for a reason.

Jazz didn't seem to reflect his feeling of reverence. He tromped casually down the long tunnel to its end and stopped in front of a solid wall. Hot Rod wasn't even surprised this time when Jazz located another hidden panel, typed in a code, and the heavy wall slowly parted with a high screeching of rusted gears.

The two slipped in and the door closed. Behind it, everything changed. The hall was well lit, clean and maintained. A few paces in and it opened to a large room full of screens and equipment, all buzzing and working happily. Hot Rod couldn't help but grin. A secret Autobot base underground! How cool was that!

"My, my, look who it is," came a voice from somewhere in the room. Hot Rod was startled by the gender of the pitch. One of the large chairs swiveled around to reveal an aged green femme, far older than either of the male Autobots on the room.

"Jazz," the female Autobot said, not getting up and sounding very amused. "I do believe it's been a few million years since I've detected your signature on this planet. I was led to believe you had off-lined for good a long time ago."

Jazz gave one of his signature crooked grins. "You should know it takes more than a few million years to keep me gone for good, Beta."

Beta smiled back as she stood.

Hot Rod's optics widened at her movement. "She...she's a female!" he hissed at Jazz.

He smirked at the younger Autobot. "Been a while since you've seen one, huh?"

"Let me take a good look at you," Beta commanded as she approached and appraised Jazz with scrutinizing optics. She looked him up an down, a small frown appearing on her thin lips. "What the pit did you do to yourself? Is this the new type of alt mode these days? It looks awful!"

Jazz laughed. "It's what all the hip cats are wearing down on Earth, Beta. It's in style."

Beta patted his cheek. "I'm just glad your creator isn't here to see this. She would blow a gasket." Before Jazz could respond, she pushed Jazz away by his face when she noticed he was not alone. "And who is _this_?" she crooned as she sidled appreciatively next to Hot Rod. "Did you bring me some nice, young optic candy, Jazz? How thoughtful."

"Just for you," Jazz confirmed.

Hot Rod stood there stupidly, unsure what to do as the much older female traced a finger along the fire pattern on his hood.

"Well I suppose you would want to get down to business," Beta then said, though she didn't look thrilled to leave Hot Rod's side. She patted him on the backside (to which Hot Rod looked quite victimized) and returned to her work station.

"That would be great," Jazz agreed as he followed her. "We're kind of running on a schedule." He handed her a small, glowing data stick. "We need to contact an Autobot named Devcon, but we can't use Iacon's frequencies. He never answers them."

"Ah, yes," Beta nodded as she took the stick and plugged it into her computer. "The bounty hunter. I know of him. What would you like to send?"

There was a loud clanging of metal hitting the floor and energon spilled all around. The two mechs instantly looked over at the source. A very surprised pink and white femme, quite young, was staring at them with wide optics. Then she quickly gained her senses and knelt to retrieve the tray.

"Sorry, Beta. I was bringing you refreshments. I didn't know you had company." She pulled out a rag from subspace and began mopping up the mess.

Hot Rod hurried over to help her, gathering the fallen energon cubes.

Beta smiled at the young femme. "Jazz, you remember my youngest creation, Arcee?"

"Sure do. How you doing, kid? It's been a while."

"Oh yes," Arcee replied from the ground, still a bit flustered from her accident. "I've been very well, thank you."

"And this handsome young bot is uh..."

"Oh, Hot Rod.” He hurried to wipe off his hand before offering it to Arcee. It was still sticky with energon, but Arcee shook it anyway with amusement. "Pleased to meet you.”

"You as well, Hot Rod."

"Both of you get yourselves cleaned up," Beta ordered, dismissing them with a wave. "I'll not have sticky bots running around my systems."

"Yes, of course," Arcee nodded and moved to show Hot Rod where he could clean up.

The two remaining bots instantly got back to business.

"Prowl has already typed up the message on that data stick I gave you," Jazz continued. "I just need it sent as soon as possible. Hopefully, it will be an offer he can't refuse."

"Consider it done. I am sending it now as we speak. I am assuming this is important."

Jazz gave her a cryptic smile. "To some more than others, I'm sure. But according to Prowl, this was the best course of action."

"How is Prowl, anyway? The two of you both disappeared on me at the same time."

"Oh, you know Prowl. Still doing what he has always been doing. He's fine." Jazz paused. "Have you heard anything from Z?"

Beta gave him a small smile. That wasn't her name, but she knew who Jazz was talking about. His creator. "Zeta 3 travels far deeper than most dare to go. I'm afraid very few have heard from her. But I am sure she is fine. I will let her know that I have seen you and you are well the next opportunity I have."

"Thanks, Beta, I appreciate it."

By then, the two younger bots had returned and the mess was cleaned up.

"Hey, let's go," Jazz called to Hot Rod. "We still have more to do."

Both Arcee and Hot Rod looked reluctant to part. It was most likely the first of the opposite gender they had each seen in a very long time. Especially someone their own age.

"Nice to meet you, Arcee," Hot Rod gave her one last look and trotted after Jazz.

Arcee waved them off, looking disappointed to see them go. She had so many questions for her creator.

Once the door was closed behind him, Hot Rod had a few questions of his own.

"What was that back there? I had no idea we had any kind of communication with the female Autobots. That's amazing!"

"Well, Beta ain't exactly all the female Autobots," Jazz told him. "She and my creator were very close and she promised her to look after me."

"Your creator was female?" Hot Rod wondered.

"Sure was," Jazz slowed his steps and sighed. "But I haven't seen her in a very long time."

"That's still better than most," Hot Rod insisted. "I don't know many who even have much recollection of theirs. They all just disappeared a long time ago. I don’t even remember mine."

"Yeah..." Jazz said softly.

"So, what exactly did you need me for? I didn't really do anything."

Jazz's cheeky grin instantly returned. "Oh, you did. Beta is usually far more cooperative if a bring a sleek, young mech for her to look at. Mirage usually does the trick, but she really seemed to like you."

Hot Rod stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth hanging open. That was Jazz's cue to start running and Hot Rod was soon angrily on his heels.

* * *

The battle raged on outside the Ark. The Autobots struggled to hold their ground with two gestalt teams hitting hard. A handful of excited seekers, plus Insecticons and cassettes, did not help the case. Megatron was throwing anything and everything he could at them and the Autobots had been caught by such surprise they were overwhelmed.

Even when Devastator dismantled into its individual parts and began securing the Autobot shuttle, there was barely any difference in the intensity of the battle.

"Look! I found the controls!" Scavenger excitedly told his team. He hovered his fingers eagerly over all the buttons. "I'll get us out of here!"

"YOU will stand aside and let someone with intelligence navigate," Hook informed him as he shoved Scrapper out of the way.

Hook studied the consul for a moment and then nimbly pressed buttons and flipped switches with skilled precision. The shuttle rumbled to life.

Outside, Autobots ran for cover and looked in horror as their shuttle was successfully commandeered right in front of them. The thrusters rumbled to full power and the shuttle slowly lifted off the ground. It prepared itself for full flight—and then promptly shot backwards, right into the side of a cliff.

Even Ultra Magnus took a moment to from his fight with Megatron to gawk. The Decepticon leader growled and opened a radio transmission to the Constructions collectively.

"What are you blundering idiots doing?!"

There was laughter in the background with Hook's frustrated voice. "I am an architect! Not a pilot! If Primus meant for Constructicons to fly, he would have built us with wings!"

"Just get the shuttle back to base and don't damage it!" Megatron barked. "Decepticons, cover that shuttle and then fall back."

"Megatron!"

He turned just in time to get tackled by Optimus Prime. The two tumbled to the ground, fists flying.

"I guess that just leaves you and me, Ultra Magnus," Starscream challenged, once their two leaders were out of the way.

"Gladly," Ultra Magnus growled. Rage was visibly clear on his face. "That was MY shuttle you piece of scrap! There will be serious consequences!"

Starscream took a step back. He was not expecting that level of anger from the new Autobot. His logic processors told him it may not be a good idea to proceed after such a threat. Instead, he backed up a few steps and then, as Ultra Magnus advanced, Starscream lost his gumption, turned and ran. He took off into the air and zipped safely into the sky.

Ultra Magnus then turned his attention to the fight between the two faction leaders. As soon as Megatron noticed he was to be out numbered, he drastically fired at Optimus. Prime ducked out of the way of the cannon blast, leaving Megatron free to retreat to the sky.

"All Decepticons fall back! We've got what we came for!"

The battle began to slow as Decepticons left the area, their prize leading the swarm. Soon the firing had ceased completely and the Autobots were helpless to do anything else but watch the Decepticons fly out of sight with their shuttle. There were a few angry barks and curses from individuals at their loss. Ultra Magnus was not excluded in their numbers.

"How could I be so stupid!" he growled. "I left that thing right out in the open! It was just begging Megatron to attack us! I am so sorry, Prime, I didn't even think! I'm so used to living on Cybertron, these things don't often happen over there. But that's still no excuse, I know. I just--"

Optimus retrieved his blaster and then put a hand on Magnus' shoulder. "We're all to blame. None of us took it into consideration. Not even I was thinking. It's done now, nothing else to do about it, old friend, but move forward from here."

Ultra Magnus frowned for a while more, but then let it go. "You are right. We should make sure no one was injured. I will attend to that."

As Magnus went to check his fellow Autobots, Optimus received a radio signal from Sunstreaker.

_I received a distress signal from the caves. Keep Ultra Magnus busy out here until I'm able to address the situation._

_Roger, Sunstreaker, we'll be plenty busy out here for the time being. Just keep me updated. Prime out._

* * *

"Slag, what a mess!" Sunstreaker announced when he reached the back of the Ark and saw the collapsed tunnels. There was dirt everywhere.

"What you mean?" Slag demanded. "Me Slag not make mess!"

The yellow Autobot slumped. "I didn't mean you, just forget it." He looked over at Snarl and Sludge. "Start digging them out."

The two Dinobots, who seemed to enjoy digging the most, looked happy to get to work. They pawed at the ground, moving massive amounts of earth away from what used to be the mouth of the caves. Finally, Snarl's claws struck metal and they pulled back to investigate.

"Careful," Sunstreaker ordered. "Get them out of there, but do it slowly."

Swoop joined in to help, digging with his hands and a red painted body was revealed. Swoop got a good grip on him and slowly pulled him out. The red autobot shook the dirt from his frame as he yanked his feet out. His hand stayed around a smaller wrist as he pulled another body with him.

"Sideswipe!" Sunstreaker barked. "I swear, the things you get into."

"Oh, Sideswipe!" Crystal cried as she threw herself on him. "It was you who saved me!" They both fell over in the dirt. "My _hero_!"

Sideswipe's optics went wide in horror at being found out. He sat there with Crystal's body draped across his lap looking like he just wanted to turn to ooze and slither away.

"You're my knight in shining armor, Sideswipe! We should stay together forever!" Crystal continued, purposefully clamping her arms tighter around his neck so he couldn't escape.

Sideswipe threw his brother a very desperate, very pathetic look, begging him for help. “S...Sunny.”

"Oh, no," Sunstreaker said smugly, enjoying the game Crystal started. "You two deserve each other. You're both filthy. I'm not touching you. You can get yourself out."

With that, he turned on his heels to radio Optimus on what had happened. Sideswipe looked forlornly after him, feeling doomed.

* * *

After leaving Beta's underground lair, Hot Rod thought his task, embarrassing as it was, was now finished. But he was quite mistaken. Once they reached the surface, Jazz gave orders to follow him once again. Had Hot Rod known where the second was planning to go, he may have never followed.

Jazz's alt form led them straight out of Autobot territory into the even more run down neutral grounds. They slipped into the shadowed side of Cybertron, which was controlled by the Decepticons. Almost as soon as their tires touched enemy grounds, Jazz led them to a system of roadways that went beneath the surface. This only made Hot Rod feel a little safer.

Shockwave was famous for his thorough surveillance system and even more efficient security the closer one got to his stronghold. But Jazz did not hesitate as he drove fearlessly through deep, dark passageways far underground with only his headlights to guide him. They drove for several hours through tunnels that seemed to loop and wind around until Hot Rod had no idea where they were. Then Jazz began to climb for the surface again until they reached a set of tunnels where they had to transform to walk through.

Now and then, they began to run into security cameras or motion detectors. Jazz seemed to see each one coming and either avoided or dismantled it without detection. Each time, Hot Rod watched in fascination. Who was this Autobot? Skulking around in the dark and sneaking into the enemy's territory was not the actions of a second-in-command.

"Okay Jazz, fess up," Hot Rod whispered as they walked along a dark tunnel, their headlights the only source of light. "You're not really a second, are you? They snuck you here under a false title so you could...gather intelligence on us or something."

"Sorry to disappoint you kid, but I really am your second." He gave the familiar sign to halt and Hot Rod stayed where he was. Jazz took a few steps forward and fiddled with something on the ground.

"But seconds don't do this," Hot Rod insisted. "They don't skulk around under Decepticon territory in the dark. They direct troops and oversee projects and stuff like that."

"Well, I wasn't always a second," Jazz replied. "Had to do something to pay the bills before all that. Besides, Prowl's better at planning and delegating than I am. My job has always been to make sure his plans succeed. I like getting my hands dirty."

"So, what did you do before you were a Second?"

The motion detector on the ground flickered off and Jazz looked at him with a smile that didn't quite suit that of a proper military leader.

"My specialty was sabotage."

Hot Rod's processor went wild with curiosity at that statement, but he was forced to hold back any questions. Jazz demanded silence as they reached a duct in the ceiling and the short second instructed him to boost him through it. Then Jazz reached down to pull up Hot Rod as well. The two crawled through a smaller tunnel for quite a while. By then, Hot Rod had calculated several hours of sneaking around. No wonder Jazz was in a hurry. Wherever they were going, they still weren't there yet.

Finally, Jazz waved for Hot Rod to stop and he made himself comfortable against the side of the tube-shaped tunnel.

"What now?" Hot Rod asked lowly.

"Now it's time to get comfortable," Jazz responded cryptically. "Now we wait."

* * *

Sunstreaker stiffened when he felt something press against his arm and he fought the urge to shrug it off. It had been several hours since the attack and with the Dinobot's caves ruined and all the Autobots running about, a new hiding place for Crystal needed to be found. There was a modest sized storage unit near the Dinobot's section. It was meant for holding heavy artillery, but the Autobots didn't use it. Its location so far back into the ship was inconvenient and they barely had enough artillery to fill the storage room they had in the front.

So the storage unit in the back would be Crystal's hiding spot for the rest of the week. She had been in there ever since she was rescued. Sideswipe had managed to cut and run a long time ago the moment he had a chance. Crystal was still filthy and had to remain in hiding until certain parties were inactive for the night. He didn't have to offer, but Sunstreaker opted to stay with her so she wasn't sitting in the room alone.

Though the two of them didn't stay by themselves for long. Sludge squeezed himself in and settled on the ground next to Crystal, resting his small head in her lap. He seemed to have taken a liking to her. Most likely because she was good at scratching his neck just right, earning a happy rumble from the gentle Dinobot. Soon, he switched to recharge mode and remained still.

Sunstreaker and Crystal spent their time talking in low tones. She listened as Sunstreaker told her about the attach and their lost shuttle. After a while, even their talking died down until the two merely sat side by side quietly, waiting. Then, Crystal's head fell onto Sunstreaker's arm and he was torn from whatever internal thought process he was playing with. He looked over at her with a frown. His sensors indicated she didn't shut down her systems for recharge. That meant she was doing that creepy sleep thing. Sunstreaker didn't know much about it, he only knew it was weird and he wished she wouldn't do it around him.

"Hey, stop that," he hissed as he jiggled his arm.

Crystal didn't stir.

It was then Sunstreaker received a signal that Ultra Magnus had retired to his temporary quarters and also, whomever tied up Bluestreak and left him when he should have been out helping with the battle had some answering to do.

Sunstreaker looked over at the sleeping form next to him and released air from his vents, making a heavy signing noise. Carefully, he removed Crystal from under Sludge's recharging form and picked her body up in his arms. He looked down at her, pressed against his chest. She was so light, it was as if there was nothing in her. She didn't have any extra hardware for an alt mode, no special systems, extra weapons; nothing. She felt very fragile and he carried her carefully towards the med bay.

Ratchet looked up when Sunstreaker came in, throwing a "Lovely," in his direction at the sight of the dirt-caked Crystal. Sunstreaker set her down on a table and immediately went to clean off all the dirt smudges he received.

"I think she's sleeping. I didn't know if I should wake her up. I don't want to, you know, break something in there if I do it wrong."

Ratchet put a hand on her helmet and tapped it with one finger as he thought. "She seems less responsive to physical stimuli when she's in this sleep mode. It's like her consciousness retreats further into her shell. I usually just let her wake up on her own."

Crystal shifted, startling both Autobots and they jumped away. She rolled over on her side, her back to them, and then didn't stir again.

"Primus, that's so creepy!" Sunstreaker hissed as he relaxed out of his defensive stance.

"She's fine," Ratchet insisted. "You're just too sensitive."

That comment earned the medic a scowl in his direction, to which he ignored. Sunstreaker rubbed the arm that had cradled Crystal's head earlier as he carefully walked up to her, ready to jump back if she moved again. His optics roamed over her as if unsure if he should look at her like one looks at an animal at the zoo or how one looks at one of their own.

"You know Ratchet, carrying her around, I almost forgot what it felt like to have a femme in my arms."

"Except she's not a femme," Ratchet cut him off. "She's human. It's not the same."

"So, she's human, is she?" A pair of blue and red door panels appeared over the side of the table, followed by a yellow crest. "That is very, very interesting."

"Smokescreen!" Ratchet demanded. "What the slag are you doing in here?"

"Just a little espionage is all," the blue Datsun replied as he casually leaned his arms on the table and looked over Crystal's sleeping body. "This is a very interesting secret you're hiding from poor 'ol Magnus."

Sunstreaker growled. He didn't like the way Smokescreen was looking at her, even if he had looked at her the same way himself.

Before he could say anything, Bluestreak thundered in through the doorway, screeching at the top of his vocalizers. He pointed a shaking, horrified finger at Smokescreen.

"You! Get out of here right now!"

Smokescreen just grinned. "Too late, Bluestreak. I found the secret. I win the game."

Not to be deterred by that logic, Bluestreak stomped over to him and attempted to physically push him away. He didn't seem to be succeeding too well. Despite their similar builds, Smokescreen had a heavier, stronger body and wasn't going anywhere.

"What do you think Ultra Magnus will do when he finds out this little gem of information?"

"He's not," Ratchet insisted. "You're not going to tell him. Prime's orders."

Smokescreen looked intrigued by the challenge, unaffected by Bluestreak shoving his back, trying to get him to move. "And what's it it for me to keep my mouth shut?"

Sunstreaker snarled and slammed a fist on the table. Crystal didn't stir from the sound or the argument. "You slimy little..."

"Hey, he's my direct superior. To not tell him would be an act of treason, would it not?"

"You can't tell him," Bluestreak whined, now tugging on one of his door panels. "And you can't be in here. Prowl said I have to keep you away from her."

Smokescreen spun around, easily knocking Bluestreak to the floor. "Wait, Prowl said?" He stopped and looked thoughtful. "That fragger doesn't want me poking my nose in this while he's gone, huh? I think maybe it might be worth my while to keep it to myself. At least until he comes back." He eyed Ratchet. "I make no promises after that." And with that, he slunk back out without even a backward glance.

* * *

"What exactly are we waiting for?" Hot Rod demanded. He instantly lowered his tone to a whisper when Jazz shushed him. "We've been sitting here forever. What's the plan? Why won't you tell me anything? I don't see how anything we've done has—”

Jazz instantly pressed a hand to his mouth as they heard several footsteps from above. A heavy thud hit the floor about them, and then they heard the slam of a jail cell door. Jazz crawled closer, listing for the positions of those standing above him. He turned on his exceptional hearing ability to catch the conversation above in full clarity while Hot Rod could only pick up muffled sounds.

From above, Shockwave's calm, robotic drawl was unmistakable.

"You were very foolish, bounty hunter, to have taken me as a target. Even more foolish to have missed. You will not live long to regret it, I assure you. But before you die, tell me who hired you, and I will at least let you die quick and with dignity."

The other voice was low and scratchy, but held no fear as it replied.

"A Decepticon hired me," the voice said without hesitation. "Paid me very well for your head. Said his name was Swindle."

"Impossible!" Shockwave insisted, his voice rising. "I know this Decepticon. Ordering hits is not in his function. Especially on a superior officer who allows him to conduct his business as he pleases."

"He told me he found a better deal," the voice replied. "With the Dark Dragon. Swindle’s team was going to help them take over their planet Helos, and then they'll come back for Cybertron. The two cut quite a trade deal for weapons and energy. He said it was going to make them all very rich. All he needed was for you to be out of the way. And he offered me a far greater bounty for your body dead than alive."

"Shocking!" Shockwave insisted. "I don't believe you, bounty hunter!"

"Believe what you want. But those Atharian terrorists are already here on Cybertron. Swindle is harboring them, waiting for my confirmation of your deactivation as we speak."

There was a breath of silence.

"I will be back to deal with you, bounty hunter."

The foot steps moved away. Jazz waited several more minutes to make sure the coast was clear before moving from his spot. He retracted his right hand and replaced it with a high-powered laser cutter and began slicing a good-sized hole above him. Once finished, Jazz lifted the metal he had cut and peered at the level above him. He was in a Decepticon holding cell. Everything was still and quiet. The only thing that stirred was a dark figure in the corner of the cell.

Jazz crawled out and over to the prisoner, using his laser cutter on the prisoner’s shackles.

"I was starting to wonder if I had made the mistake of a lifetime," Devcon said quietly.

"Nah," Jazz confirmed as he freed him. "We're still running like clockwork. Come on."

He slid back through the hole with Devcon right behind him. Hot Rod, who had been waiting for them, brought up the rear. Jazz led them away on hands and knees.

"So, you were supposed to get thrown in jail?" Hot Rod asked.

"That's what I was paid to do," Devcon confirmed. "The job was to make Shockwave the mark, but to miss and get thrown in jail on purpose."

"And then you read your lines perfectly," Jazz added. "Shocky fell right into it. When we get to where we're going, you'll get payment in full."

Hot Rod actually barked out a laugh, which echoed through the tunnel. "Why did you agree to it? If I got an order like that, I'd never do it, no matter how much they paid me!"

Devcon smirked in the dark. "Never say never until you see the actual price, kid. Besides, I met an Autobot named Smokescreen once who told me if ever an Autobot named Prowl asked for my help and I did it without question, I would never regret it. And well, here I am not regretting it yet."

The route out of the tunnels was just as painstaking and slow as it was to get in. But Hot Rod noticed they were not going the same way they had come. And certainly were not heading back to Autobot territory. He was learning not to question just as Devcon had done, and followed blindly, eager to see where all of this panned out.

Finally, the group reached their destination. Jazz led them to a much larger tunnel where they could walk upright again and there was a ladder that led to the surface. Above, there were the distinct sounds of gunfire.

"This is our destination," Jazz said as he began to climb. "As you can hear, it's pretty hairy up there. Stay low and watch for my signals."

He climbed to the top and cautiously lifted the grate above him to peek out. Just as Prowl's instructions had suggested, they surfaced near the battle, but in an area where there were buildings and obstacles to protect them from the fire. Prowl was already there, crouched low and keeping tabs on what was going on out on the impromptu battlefield. When he saw Jazz, he motioned him over. Devcon and Hot Rod crawled out after him.

"How's it going so far?" Jazz asked as he crouched next to Prowl.

"As expected. Shockwave unleashed his full fleet on Swindle and the Dark Dragon ship. I don't believe the other Combaticons are even around. And since Shockwave knows the Dark Dragon are terrorists, he didn't hesitate to attack them with full force without worry of ruining any trade deals he had with the Atharians. This is going to be a very short battle."

Jazz grinned at his friend. "You are very ruthless sometimes, you know that?"

"I warned them this would happen," Prowl insisted.

"You did."

"I gave them a sufficient chance to reconsider."

"Without a doubt."

"If I don't make good on my promises, how is anyone supposed to take me seriously?"

"Exactly, Prowl, you are a mech of your word."

"Except you forgot something," Hot Rod pointed out. "The Atharian prince? We're supposed to save him, remember?"

Prowl and Jazz grinned at each other.

"It's being taken care of," they said in unison.

"It _has_ been taken care of," a new voice announced. Mirage appeared in front of them, a bundle in his arms. With their ship being attacked, the Dark Dragon members were too panicked to notice their hostage had disappeared.

"Sorry to make you work on your week off, Mirage," Prowl said.

"Hey, a job on Cybertron is still being on Cybertron," Mirage grinned. "I don't mind at all. Besides, it was worth it to save this little guy."

Atharians, although organic, were the same size as the average Cybertronian. Mirage had to hold the toddler in both arms to properly support him. The child looked at him with both sets of his wide, silver eyes.

"Devcon, if you wouldn't mind,” Prowl then said. “All of our interiors are designed for smaller life forms."

The bounty hunter had an amused look on his face plates. "Certainly."

He transformed into his space cruiser alt mode and Mirage carefully secured the young body inside.

"Alright Autobots," Prowl said. "Let's roll out of here before the Decepticons realize they've been tricked."

Everyone agreed and they all transformed and raced for more familiar surroundings.

Right on the border of Autobot territory, the Atharian entourage had been waiting, just as Prowl had invited. There were cheers as the five Autobots pulled up and all but one transformed into root mode.

"Get it out!" Devcon ordered, no longer amused. "It's making noise! What's it doing?"

"HE is just doing what babies do," Prowl said calmly as he took the fussing infant from the irritated cockpit. He cradled the young prince against his sloping chest and the little Atharian went quiet, lulled by the sound of his still rumbling engine. Then he made a sound of delight as he groped at the red Autobot insignia painted against the stark white background.

Prowl heard a click and the soft smile he had for the young prince turned into a frown that he had for his fellow second.

"Jazz," he warned.

"Just saving the moment," Jazz grinned, a photo device in hand.

"My baby!"

The queen of the Atharians herself ran forward for her son and Prowl carefully handed him to his mother. She was tall and willowy, as were the rest of her people, with silver hair and eyes and lavender skin. The young prince burbled happily at her.

"You have a mother's thanks, noble Autobots," the queen nodded to Prowl. "May the Goddess Atha smile on you always. What may we pay you for this service? Please name your price."

"No payment is necessary, your Highness," Prowl insisted. "It was our pleasure to be of service." He made a low, gallant bow and the queen flushed blue in her cheeks.

With one more polite nod, Prowl excused himself and approached Devcon.

"Now, to address your payment. Reimbursement for travel expenses plus twice your usual price."

Devcon shook his head. "I will take the travel reimbursement, that is all."

Prowl looked at him, not expecting that response. "Why is that?"

The bounty hunter folded his arms in a business type manner. "Because I believe a bot like you owing me a favor is worth far more than that agreed amount."

Prowl's mouth ticked up just a hair. "Very well. As you wish it."

"Alright, now that the mission's over, group picture!" Jazz announced. He pulled in Hot Rod and Mirage eagerly leaned in from Prowl's other side and the picture was snapped.

"That one's a keeper!"

* * *

Later that night, Jazz lay on the highest landing pad of the Autobot base. The stars hung above him, with glowing gold towers covering his light pant job in winking lights. With hands tucked behind his head, he seemed content to thoroughly bathe in the night air, watching the stars above. A wide form stood above him, shadowing him for a moment with the span on his door panels.

"I thought you might like one," Prowl said, offering a cylindrical container.

Jazz sat up and took it. Prepackaged energon in a can. Unlike the crude energon cubes they had to make due with on Earth.

"Ooh, fancy," Jazz said as he opened the can and took a long drink. "There's nothing like Cybertron energon, that's for sure."

"Indeed," Prowl agreed as he sat next to him with a canister of his own.

The two sat in companionable silence as they watched the city all around them.

"We did good today, didn't we?" Jazz smiled at the flashing lights. "I thought we'd be out of practice, but I think we've still got it."

"Yes," Prowl agreed. "We do."

"Cheers to us," Jazz said as he raised his energon can. "For not being ready for the scrap heap just yet, and to that fragger Smokescreen. I have never heard of a bot so meticulous at getting underground information. Without his data files and underground maps, we wouldn’t have been able to pull it off."

Prowl clanked drinks with him, but then pressed his mouth in a stern line. Smokescreen. It was an issue he did not want to think about—had been unable to think about—until recently due to certain circumstances. Now the problem would address itself when he returned to Earth, whether he wanted to think about it or not. All he could do now was attempt to prepare himself for it when the time came.

"Hey Prowl," Jazz said, gaining his attention. "You ever wonder what will happen to us? You know, in the long run? Optimus won't be the Prime forever. He'll either retire or, Primus forbid, Megatron will get in a lucky shot."

"Optimus will never give the Matrix to either of us,” Prowl replied. “We're part of the old Cybertron, just as he is. The Autobots have a new face now and that face is Ultra Magnus. He is the most logical choice to receive the Matrix after Optimus. He is the future of the Autobots."

Jazz's face fell flat as he drank thoughtfully from his can. Then his usual smirk slowly came back.

"Heh, can't really say I'm disappointed. How about you Prowl?"

"No. I do not envy Optimus of his job, nor did I join as his second with plans of going any higher." He gazed thoughtfully at the city scape. "To be honest, I did not expect to live long enough to see a new Prime. With the way the war was going, if Optimus had a successor, it would have been because he had been taken in battle. And I would have never allowed him to go down if my spark was still beating."

"Wow, Prowl, that made me shiver a bit," Jazz quipped.

Prowl threw his friend a half a smile. "Oh hush. You're the same way."

"Which is why I am asking, if Optimus lives to pass the Matrix to a new Prime, what do you plan to do?"

Prowl actually looked like it was a situation he hadn't considered, which was something very rare for him.

"I really don't know. In all honesty, I never had anything to live for outside of working for the Autobots. I never planned to take my leave of military service. But now..."

Jazz gave him a knowing look. "Now you found something else to live for?"

Prowl took another drink and was silent.

* * *

"Sir!" Ultra Magnus was surprised when the one knocking on his door was none other than Optimus Prime himself. He didn't think the Autobot leader needed to knock and expected one of his underlings to be at the door instead.

Ultra Magnus stumbled to his feet. "Sorry, sir. Please excuse the mess. I wasn't expecting you."

He quickly tried to organize all his notes and data.

"Don't worry about it," Optimus assured him as he sat himself down. "Prowl's office hardly sees much clutter. This is good for it."

Ultra Magnus offered him a small smile as he sat back down and leaned back in the chair. There was a moment of silence.

"I don't believe I have felt as foolish as I have today in a long time," he confided in his leader.

"Welcome to my world," Optimus Prime said. "Between us and all the Decepticon's schemes, it seems we take turns making each other look like fools. We all were a bit to blame today. All of us were so wrapped up in what was going on around here, we forgot that Megatron doesn't take a break just because we get busy."

Ultra Magnus nodded. "Indeed, it was a learning experience for me in more ways than one. It has been a long time since I have seen full Decepticon ferocity. Long have we thought of them on Cybertron as those who plot and scheme in the underworld and play political games with our planetary neighbors. I saw today only a fraction of the savagery of what the Decepticon army used to be and my spark, I fear, trembled a bit. It continues to tremble as I think about what may happen to Cybertron if Megatron returns."

He looked down at his hands and then back up at his leader. "I know it has been your hope all along that the Decepticons leave Earth for good. And while I fear for Cybertron when they do, I must agree. Earth should not have to bear the brunt of our problem. And I am amazed how well they have done against him so far, being such small life forms."

He paused, sighing internally. Optimus waited, knowing he had more to say.

"I know the sentiment may not be felt unanimously when you and the Decepticons return to Cybertron, but I for one thank you for having detoured Megatron for so long, whether it was intended or not. I shutter to think of what the state of Cybertron would be if he had never left."

"Don't worry about it, old friend," Optimus waved him off. "What's done is done. What we need to think about now is how to get you another shuttle for Cybertron."

"That I have taken care of. Not to worry, Optimus. I had Red Alert radio Cybertron and they will be sending Sky Lynx down in time for pick up. I should have just sent him in the first place. Being an Autobot himself, he would have been harder to steal. The crew and I decided to pass. He's a bit..."

Optimus waited for Magnus to find the right words.

"Annoying," he finally admitted. "A week's travel with him is not something I look forward to."

Optimus tried to apologize between his laughter. It threw Ultra Magnus off a bit to see his leader in such high spirits after a defeat in battle.

"Come on," Optimus invited as he stood. "Let's have a drink with our comrades. We may have lost a shuttle, but we did not lose any lives, and that is always a reason to laugh and drink with our brothers."

Ultra Magnus hesitated, but Optimus would have none of that.

"I know you feel as though you are a stranger here, but I have to disagree." He pointed to the Autobot insignia on Magnus' chest. "As long as we all carry this symbol, no matter where we live or what we have done, we are all brothers and we are all friends.

"So come with me, Ultra Magnus. Let us show you there are no strangers here."

A smile slowly spread across Ultra Magnus' face. He had certainly learned a lot here, and not just about Earth. On Cybertron, Optimus Prime had become a legend, but a legend whose return brought doubts to many Autobots in political and military power.

At the moment, Ultra Magnus has no such doubts.

With a smile, he took the outstretched hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"That sounds like a fantastic idea."

**Close File #009 - Ultra Magnus**


	10. Brothers

**The Autobot Files**

**File #010 - Brothers**

Ratchet looked up from the repair work he was conducting on his own arm when he heard someone plop themselves on one of his examining tables. He frowned when he saw the familiar red body hunched over on his side with his back facing out.

"Again, Sideswipe?" Ratchet demanded as he closed his arm panel and approached.

"I don't feel well," Sideswipe said softly. "I just want to lay here for a moment."

Ratchet watched him, hands on his hips. Sideswipe didn't move. He had been doing this periodically for some time now and it was starting to get on the medic's nerves. Not that Sideswipe was taking up any of his time. All he would do was lay there for as long as it suited him and then quietly leave, but his visits were starting to become a concern. Physically, Sideswipe was in top condition. That meant the problem was coming from a different place, which was unusual for the red Autobot. Anyone who knew Sideswipe knew nothing got that bot down for long. Nothing. Whatever this problem was, it was something considerable.

But with it not being a physical problem, Sideswipe had no reason to be in the med bay. And sitting in the dark moping about it certainly wasn't going to help.

"Really Sideswipe, you'd rather be laying around in here than out there having fun with your comrades?" Ratchet tried.

His response was something plaintive, but inaudible. Like a pouting child not wanting to get out of bed.

Ratchet folded his arms, processing what he could do about the situation. His conclusion: he climbed onto the table with him.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Sideswipe sat up, offended that his personal space had been violated.

"Well," Ratchet rationalized. "You keep coming in here, but you're not sick. It must mean that you just want to spend time with me. So, here I am."

He reached for the younger Autobot and Sideswipe flew off the table faster than the medic had ever seen him move before. He retreated to the doorway before turning to jab an accusatory finger in Ratchet's direction.

"You perverted old quack! I'm going to tell Optimus you tried to molest me!"

With wide optics, Sideswipe fled the area.

Ratchet grinned, remaining where he was on the table, on his side, chin propped up on his palm. His smiled disappeared, however, when Trailbreaker walked in and eyed him.

"Damnit Ratchet, I told you before. You will not seduce me," the dark Autobot said flatly.

Ratchet sighed as he sat up. He wondered if it was even worth trying to explain.

* * *

Sunstreaker struggled to keep his head up. It was a battle he was losing.

"I really have to go recharge," he told Crystal. "I can't put it off any longer. Think you'll be okay for a couple of hours? Or do I need to get a replacement to keep you company?"

Crystal looked him over. She wouldn't have guessed one could see fatigue on a metal face, but she could definitely see it. Sunstreaker hadn't gone down for proper recharge since Ultra Magnus had arrived, which was five days ago. He looked like he could use the rest.

"Nah, I'll be fine. It will give me some time to myself. You just go get some rest."

Sunstreaker stood and stretched out his back. "I'll just make sure someone checks on you while I'm out. Last I heard, Magnus has been wandering the base so don't leave the artillery closet, okay?"

"Yeah," Crystal sighed.

"Hey, only two more days after this one, right? We're getting there."

"We'll make it,” she agreed. "I'll see you later."

Sunstreaker gave her an encouraging smile back and shut the door behind him.

It was only about ten minutes later when it opened again. Crystal was about to remark that she didn't need someone to check up on her _that_ often when she saw an Autobot she didn't recognize.

"Well, hello," Smokescreen greeted. "I was hoping I would be able to catch some time to speak with you. My name is Smokescreen."

Crystal sat up and pressed herself against the wall, not sure what this Autobot wanted. He was giving off a vibe she didn't trust.

"You're not supposed to know—"

"About you?" Smokescreen finished as he sat himself casually against the opposite wall. "You'll find there's very little that I don't know. It's my job after all." When Crystal had nothing to say about that, he went on. "So, you're human. Or, you used to be. I find that very, very interesting."

Crystal drew her knees up guardedly. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? How can that _not_ be interesting?" Smokescreen demanded. "What I want to know is how you were chosen to do this and what the Autobots plan to gain from it."

"I wasn't chosen," Crystal shot back, forgetting some of her earlier timidness. "They weren't looking for some candidate to experiment on. They did it to save my life."

"Oh please," the Autobot waved her off. "Humans die all the time." He started crawling towards her. "What I want to know is why they were interested in letting _you_ live. More importantly, why Prowl has shown interest in you."

Crystal started backing up again. "Why do you care what Prowl does?"

"Because, like any good guardian, I like knowing what my dear baby brother enjoys doing with his time."

"Wait, your Prowl and Bluestreak's older brother?"

Smokescreen's confident expression instantly fell into a dark cloud.

"Who told you that?"

Crystal looked confused. "But you just said—"

"Did Bluestreak tell you he's Prowl's brother?"

"No, but—"

"You listen to me, human," Smokescreen said lowly. "Our creator only made two of us and neither one of them was that little gray rust bucket. He can look like Prowl all he wants, but _I_ was the one who was there when Prowl was sparked. _I_ pulled him out of the spark chamber. I was the only one there in his first waking moments. No one else. He has one brother and it's me."

Crystal had no comment to that.

"You don't know anything, do you?" He snorted in disgust as he stood. "Useless..." He started for the door. "I can see why they've been keeping you in here."

Crystal's jaw fell as she finally found the sense to be insulted. "Hey, what are you—"

Smokescreen had already shut the door behind him. Crystal jumped to her feet to give the blue and red Autobot a piece of her mind, but the door was locked.

"HEY! You ass! Let me out!"

She pounded on the door only a few times. There was no point raising a ruckus. She was supposed to be hiding and someone would check on her soon enough. It just made her mad. She bumped her forehead against the door in frustration. That Smokescreen, she didn't like him one bit.

Then, Crystal suddenly felt the sensation she wasn't alone. She spun around and flipped on all the lights. The artillery closet was revealed to the back corner, which wasn't too far away. The place was completely bare and there was no one else inside. All was silent. What was that? She was confident she didn't imagine it. She would have blamed Mirage, but he was on Cybertron.

The room stayed still and empty and Crystal let it drop. Maybe she was just imagining things. Or maybe she heard someone in another room or the Dinobots digging or something.

She heard whispering in her audial, as if someone was standing right next to her. Crystal spun around again, her fuel pump pounding. There was no one else in the room with her. She ran for the door again, but it was still locked. She turned around, back pressed to the door. In the empty room, the voices grew louder.

* * *

Red Alert had resigned himself to the surveillance room and had not left since the shuttle had been stolen by the Decepticons the day before. He had gone from being afraid to do anything to attempting to do everything himself. And even though it was the direction Inferno was pushing his friend to go, he wasn't quite happy with the results.

"It wasn't your fault Red," he insisted from a chair nearby. "If you had worked a shift that day it doesn't mean we may have detected the Decpticons sooner."

"You don't know that!" Red Alert snapped back. "Hound was working _my_ shift. I was the one who was supposed to be supervising surveillance in Prowl's absence. I'm the expert in that field. I may have been able to buy us more time if only I were here doing my job instead of hiding and feeling sorry for myself."

Inferno set his jaw, praying for Primus to give him strength

"Red, come on, no one is blaming you. Stop beating yourself up about it."

"Easy for you to say," Red Alert huffed. "You don't have anything to prove down here. I do. No matter who's fault you say it was, I screwed up the last time I was on Earth and I will have to work hard to gain everyone's trust again. It's not going to come easy, Inferno and you know it just as well as I do."

"Take it easy Red. You can prove yourself without overloading your motherboard. If Prowl comes backs seeing you wound this tight, he'll pull you off shift himself."

"Well—"

"I said EXCUSE ME!" a shrill voice screamed from the floor.

The two Autobots stopped and stared at the human female standing on their floor, tapping her foot.

"Well it's about time! I could hardly get in a word with the two of you bickering like a married couple!"

Both recognized the human by her tone alone. It had been several years since they had seen her and she had grown older. But there was no mistaking that human for any other. Estoria Carlton Ritz.

"Would you two be so kind as to inform me where I can find Powerglide?" Her sentence started sweet and quickly gained anger until she was practically growling out the Autobot's name.

Both pointed the way down the hall toward the rec room.

"Thank you very much," Estoria said sweetly and then stalked off down the direction provided.

It was silent for a moment.

"Don't you beat yourself up over that either," Inferno warned. "I don't think there's anything an Autobot can do to prevent _that_."

Red Alert nodded in agreement.

* * *

Ultra Magnus leaned against the door frame of the rec room, watching the Autobots within. He liked this place and these Autobots. They were growing on him. Despite being on Earth for the past several years, they felt like the old Cybertron. They also had a way of making someone like him feel at home in their tiny base. These were very fine Autobots indeed. He could see why Optimus Prime chose them to come with him.

"Hey you! Move your big fat foot!"

Ultra Magnus looked down and nearly jumped out of the way as if the small human were a deadly snake.

"Thank you," Estoria nodded. Now with Ultra Magnus not blocking the door, she could stalk inside and up to a table where a certain red Autobot was laughing with his friends.

"Powerglide!"

The laughter instantly stopped and the two good friends Powerglide was talking with—Bumblebee and Hound—were now ex good friends and gone like the wind. Powerglide was left alone to face the untold wrath alone.

"Why didn't you tell me you came back to Earth?"

"Estoria, I'm sorry," Powerglide said as he stumbled to his feet.

"I gave you like six different ways to contact me when you were transferred back!"

"I know. Give me a break, would ya? I just barely got here?"

Estoria leveled her gaze on him. "Just barely got back today?"

"Well, no..."

"What then? Was it late last night?"

Powerglide fidgeted. "Not exactly..."

"So then what? What is your excuse that you could not have taken a few seconds to send me some kind of notice?"

"Well, I...uh..."

Powerglide suddenly sprinted out of the room, nearly running into Ultra Magnus in his haste. The Autobot leader moved got out of the way as Estoria was quick to follow.

"Powerglide! Get back here!"

Ultra Magnus watched the two go, looking confused and then turned to Ironhide who was standing next to him. "Don't we have some kind of restrictions on humans in the base?"

"Sure do. Have been ever since Spike got married. No humans within the parameter without prior notice."

"So then...should someone inform Optimus about this?"

Ironhide started down the hall. "Ya can if ya want, but he don't like getting yelled at by her neither."

* * *

Sunstreaker awoke from recharge when someone manually overrode his timer. He lifted the lid of the recharge berth and glared at the guilty party.

"What do ya want?" he demanded. "I need recharge."

Bluestreak's concerned face looked down at him. "Who's watching Crystal? I can't find anyone who can give me an answer."

Sunstreaker groaned. "I forgot."

He had meant to find an Autobot to take his place while he was recharging, but he had been so tired and Sideswipe had distracted him by ranting something about being attacked by Ratchet it had completely slipped his processor.

"Can you do it, Blue?"

His expression brightened. "I sure can! I don't mind at all! In fact—"

"Yeah that's fine," Sunstreaker cut him off. "But don't be a bother to her, okay? Just check on her, that's it."

Bluestreak ducked back behind the berth a bit at the mention of him possibly being a nuisance. "Oh I won't bother her, Sunstreaker, I promise. I'll just poke my head in and see how she is doing. I won't stay if she doesn't want me to and I'll try not to talk to much and—"

"Sounds good." Sunstreaker didn't wait for him to finish. Bluestreak was still talking as he closed the lid and hit a button on the inside to start up the recharge process again.

With Sunstreaker back in recharge, Bluestreak went to Crystal's new hiding place, the artillery closet at the back of the base. He was a bit confused to find it had been locked from the outside. Why did Sunstreaker lock it? Maybe he was just tired and didn't realize what he was doing. Either way, that wouldn't do. Poor Crystal wouldn't be able to get out if she needed to.

He opened the door and poked his head inside to find the room completely lit. He thought that was odd. Usually the one bulb by the door was sufficient light. Having the others on was just a waste of energy. Bluestreak didn't see Crystal immediately and took a step inside. He looked around and found her curled up in the corner to his left, knees pulled up to her chest and her hands over her audios.

"Hey, are you okay?" Bluestreak asked.

Crystal's head shot up and for a moment, hope on her face at the familiar silhouette. But then her expression dropped when she realized it wasn't the Autobot she thought it was. That look was not lost on Bluestreak.

"Hi, I thought I'd check see how you were doing. But um...I don't have to stay if you don't want me to."

Crystal quickly stood, anxious to keep him there. "No, you can stay. Please do. I mean—I can't go anywhere else?"

Bluestreak stepped all the way in, closing the door behind him. "Sorry, Ultra Magnus is really making rounds today. It's best to stay in here."

Crystal looked down at her hands, obviously not liking that news. Bluestreak felt bad.

"I'm sorry, you're probably really claustrophobic in here. Especially since Sunstreaker accidentally locked you in. I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose. He was just really tired and—"

“It wasn't Sunstreaker

Bluestreak looked confused. "Who did it?"

Crystal instantly clammed up and looked down at her hands again. Bluestreak stepped forward and dipped his head to try and meet her gaze.

"Hey," he said gently. "Who locked the door on you?"

Crystal frowned and tried to look away. She hated being treated like she was someone who was easily victimized by something so trivial. She could take care of herself. She didn't need doting Autobots to fuss over every little thing.

Bluestreak shrugged when he didn't get an answer. "Okay, that's fine. We'll I just came to check on you. I'll be going now."

"No!" Crystal actually lunged forward and grabbed his arm. She had to say something to make him stay. She couldn't be left alone in this room again. "It was Smokescreen. He was the one who locked the door."

Bluestreak stared at her, his optics wide and round. The hand on his arm was shaking. Crystal instantly regretted her desperate response and pulled back, horrified at herself for losing control.

"Smokescreen was in here? What did he say to you? He didn't...scare you or anything, did he?"

"No..." Now she felt really stupid. "He got a bit mad at me. That's why he locked the door. It's not that big of a deal, really."

"Mad about what?"

If robots could blush, she would have. "I think I said something stupid to him. I thought Sunstreaker said that you and Prowl were brothers, but I guess I heard wrong."

"Ah." A look of understanding covered Bluestreak's face and he smiled at her. "I've got a story for you, do you want to hear it?"

Crystal nodded. Anything to keep him there. And in truth, she was curious to hear what it was.

Bluestreak found himself a comfortable place against the wall and Crystal situated herself next to him.

"Back at the beginning of the war," Bluestreak began. "Not everyone had heard of the Decepticons. Even those that had, didn't believe they existed. Not until they began their massive assaults on city after city. My home town was one of the very first attacked. I worked on the energon docks back then. They were Megatron's main target as he tried to gather energy for his growing army. No one saw it coming when he attacked."

"Were you hurt?" Crystal asked softly.

The smile on his face seemed sadder and a bit forced now. "Yeah," he whispered. "They tore through everyone that stood in their way, took what they wanted and left the workers for dead. Luckily, help came and they relocated those that survived, including me, to a shelter where there were medics to help us. However, they weren't able to help too many before Megatron came back to attack the shelter."

Crystal frowned. "Why would he do that? That doesn't help him any."

Bluestreak tipped his head, trying to recall a long ago past. "I'm not quite sure. I remember, the place belonged to some old bot and he had quite a bit of technology—weapon schematics or something. It's hard to recall. I just remember the slaughter. The medics, the injured. Megatron didn't care if they couldn't fight back, he destroyed anything that could look at him." The gray Autobot shook a bit at the recollection. "I remember the screams, the dying. I remember how hot that fusion cannon was. I remember how bad it hurt and I remember wishing I could die faster so it would be all over."

He had to look away for a moment to gather himself and then returned his gaze, a smile creeping in.

"But Prowl was there. He led a group to chase the Decepticons out. He found me still alive and stayed with me until the medics came. I was out of it most of the time, but they told me later all my outer shell had been torn off. They couldn't even recognize my design anymore. They used Prowl's schematics to rebuild me. When I was repaired, I asked to go with him. I didn't have anything left to go back to. Prowl really saved my life in more ways than one.

"Prowl and I—we're not really brothers. I'm what you would call...what's the English word... adopted, I guess. Prowl sees me as his brother, but Smokescreen..." Bluestreak made a small laugh. "He doesn't really like me much."

"Smokescreen sounds like an idiot to me," Crystal informed him.

Bluestreak chuckled. "I can't blame him. Prowl is his only family. I'm sure he just doesn't want to lose him. We both love him as our brother. And that is why I want to keep watching out for you."

"For me?" Crystal was with him right until the end, but that last turn she didn't follow.

"Of course," he insisted. "I care about Prowl and I care about what he cares about, and he cares about you."

Crystal didn't try to hide the sad expression that made itself known on her face. All this talk about Prowl, she suddenly missed him. She didn't think she would. He was only going to be gone for three weeks. And it wasn't like he was around much when he was there because of his responsibilities to the base. But without warning, she suddenly longed to see him.

Yet, she couldn't help but feel she had a little piece of him with her with the presence of this Autobot, whether they were related or not. And she found herself starting to care about what Prowl cared about as well.

"So anyway," Bluestreak continued in the silence. "I'm here for you if you need me. Anything you want, just let me know, okay?"

He was a bit at a loss when Crystal curled up next to him and hugged his arm. "Would you mind telling me another story?"

* * *

On Cybertron, in the Autobot capitol city of Iacon, the general mood around the base had been high ever since the return of the Atharian prince. That had been four days ago and the Atharians had been singing praises to the Autobots ever since. Several political and financial ventures were currently in the works between the two cultures and many on both ends were very happy about it.

Several Autobots had tried to get Prowl involved in the processes, but he declined them all and merely asked for a progress report afterwards. He was a bot who knew his strengths, and political savvy was not one of them. He was better at leading troops, not dancing around politicians and making business deals.

All he was interested in were the final numbers and reports, which he was perusing on a small, portable data pad as he crossed a large open space between two of the base’s facilities. The area was known for troops to race and play games in when they were not on shift, but Prowl paid no mind to this until an Autobot crashed at his feet.

Prowl paused and inspected his foot. "Jazz."

"I'm... going to beat him... one of these days... just you wait..." Jazz managed to say. His air vents heaved as he tried to get his overheated systems down to normal.

"Yeah, I wouldn't count on that," Springer said after having watched the fifth race in a row. "Blurr can go all day without even slowing down. You're fast, Jazz, but he's in a league by himself."

Jazz growled and Prowl almost had to smile. He knew his friend hated few things more than being told what he couldn't do.

"Prowl!" He attention was taken yet again as an excited Wheeljack ran up to him. He cradled some sort of device in his arms. "You won't believe how much equipment I found. We need to get it all boarded into Omega Supreme."

"I want a full inventory of it first," Prowl insisted and nodded to the device in his arms. "What's that?"

"Oh, this!" Wheeljack might as well had been a kid on Christmas morning. "I found it in my lab. It's a sub-posatronic generator and it still works!"

"And is that for...you know who?" Prowl wondered.

Wheeljack clutched it protectively to his chest. "Heck no! It's for me!"

The second’s door panels drooped a bit. "Just get me that list before you load anything _and_ the current condition of each item. We're not paying to cart fixer uppers all the way to Earth. And you," he pointed his stylus at Jazz. "No more racing."

Prowl then left, glancing behind him in time to see Wheeljack running off and Jazz setting up another race with Blurr. He ignored it all and walked inside, continuing on until he came to his destination. Research and information was on the second level, and Prowl sat himself at a consul and began typing. He spent a few minutes engrossed in his work until he realized there was someone standing behind him and he stopped what he was doing.

"Researching battle computers, huh?" Kup commented. "Interesting topic."

"It is," Prowl responded.

"It appears you're not the only one who thinks so."

Prowl didn't look up, nor did he give away anything he was thinking.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I caught First Aid in here doing research on the exact same thing. He said you scheduled an appointment with him to repair your battle computer. Which I think is very intriguing, you want to know why?"

Prowl didn't respond.

Kup turned a chair backwards and sat down, leaning his arms on the back rest. "Because I know that gizmo didn't break while you were out here. Which means it wasn't working while you were on Earth."

Prowl still made no move to respond.

"Now, an intelligent bot like yourself," Kup continued, “certainly wouldn't go on a space voyage with faulty equipment. It's practical to make sure all your slag is working before you get on the ship. But since you didn't, that means your medic wouldn't fix it for you. Why is that?"

Prowl shut down his research. "I don't believe I am required to give you that information."

"No, you're not," Kup agreed. "I'm just curious why a bot of your stature would need his repaired. They're a bit passed my time, but I remember we used them on the younger recruits. There were two different reasons one could get an order to have a battle computer installed.

"One was for the new blood. If they didn’t have the experience, we would jump-start some military programs into them to help them on the battlefield. The second we put into existing soldiers who had been so traumatized they couldn't function anymore. So we installed a personality stabilizer and memory suppressants so the soldier could still do his duty until we could find a replacement for them."

Prowl was silent and Kup watched him closely. "But a smart kid like you, with all your natural talents, I bet you were tough to replace. Maybe near impossible. And I know your type. You don't like to quit. You don't like the thought of someone else doing your job because you know they would never do it as good as you. Sound about right?"

Prowl finally moved. He discarded his earlier statement of not needing to offer information and turned his head to give Kup an icy stare.

"There was no time for a vacation. We were in a middle of a war and the Decepticons were winning. I was second-in-command of the entire Autobot army and it was solely my job to make sure the Decepticons did not gain any ground. Many lives were at stake and I _know_ no one else could have held them at bay as long as I did."

Kup rested his chin on his arms. "Aye lad, perhaps that's true. But that part of the war has been over for a very, very long time, hasn't it?"

Prowl looked away again, his twitching door panels the only things giving away his agitation.

Kup wheeled his chair closer to the second so they were sitting next to each other.

"There was a reason those things were meant to be temporary. It doesn't work to try and forget your problems. It's bad enough that we made soldiers block their memories so they could continue to fight, but they can't be put off forever. I've seen a lot of slag in my life, but I can't pretend it didn't happen. That's no way to live; that's no way to gain strength from life.

"Sorry for saying so Prowl, but you're the reason we never left those computers in for too long. Otherwise, you get used to having them. You forget what it's like to feel normal. And now that yours has finally run down, you're panicking. You don't want to think about whatever you tried to block out. You don't want to be like the rest of us, governed not only by our processors, but by our emotions. You don't want to see what kind of bot you are when there's nothing holding you back."

Prowl's mouth twitched. Kup could see the programming had been slowly breaking down for a while.

"I need it fixed," Prowl insisted. "I need to be able to do my job. I save lives."

This time, Kup stood up and clapped his hand on the black and white's shoulder. "Time to save your own now. Let it run its course and then let it go. Take care of whatever you are running from. The things that happen to us are meant to shape us into what we can be. Face them, grow from them, and then move on. Your experience, your intelligence, your passion for keeping your fellow Autobots safe will still be there when you're ready to move on again."

Prowl, again, sat there silently. Then he nodded his head. "Thank you for your advice, Kup. I will take it into consideration."

"Good lad. I'm sure you'll make the right decision. I'll leave you to it, then."

Prowl nodded and waited for the security officer to leave. Then he returned to his monitor and continued his research.

* * *

It had been a long day, but a good one. Ultra Magnus had enjoyed his time spent around the Ark. All the previous days had been a heavy information dump of Earth, its life forms and their relationship with the Autobots. Today, however, Ultra Magnus was given time to learn more about the members of the Ark itself and it was a day of fellow-shipping the Earth Autobots. He had tested his caliber against some of the best sure shots in the base. (Except for an Autobot named Bluestreak who was supposed to be the best. But he was nowhere to be found during the impromptu tournament and no one else had a problem with that. According to them, it was about time someone else got a chance to win.)

Later on in the day, Trailbreaker and Hound asked Ultra Magnus to come "off-roading" with them. He had no idea what that meant so he agreed. Then he regretted that decision. Optimus Prime himself caught him limping back, picking out sticks and weeds from his gears.

After cleaning himself up, Ultra Magnus was looking forward to some quiet time in his office. His solitude, however, was denied in the form of Smokescreen, who was already in there, sitting at Prowl's borrowed desk He was slumped in the chair, grimly going through Prowl’s files. There were no lights on except the computer screen, which cast a lighter hue on the dark blue Autobot.

"Isn't it impolite to go through someone's personal files when they're not around?" Ultra Magnus said.

"Meh, Prowl expects it of me. Which is why he doesn't leave things he doesn't want me to find out where I can see them."

"Then what are you hoping to find on there?"

"With Prowl, it is the information that he doesn't give you that often speaks the loudest."

Ultra Magnus let that go. Those two and their odd relationship. He wasn't going to get in the middle of it.

"Speaking of finding things, do you have any new information for me?"

Smokescreen didn't even pause as he rifled through a new folder. "Nope."

Ultra Magnus gave him a calculating gaze. "Someone already got to you, didn't they?"

Smokescreen made no move to confirm or deny. Ultra Magnus was not impressed. This Autobot had a talent for getting underground information no one else could get. But Ultra Magnus had a talent, too. He had a talent for reading others. Even someone as secretive as Smokescreen. They had worked together long enough that the information Smokescreen didn't give also spoke the loudest.

"Who was it?" he pressed. "Did Optimus Prime talk to you?"

A minute smirk from Smokescreen.

"Oh no," Ultra Magnus insisted. "You're not doing this for Prowl. There's no way he contacted you. He's on Cybertron."

The smirk only grew bigger and Smokescreen stopped looking at his monitor to give Ultra Magnus his attention.

"As I told you before, Mags, sometimes it's the things Prowl doesn't say that have the most information."

"Oh, come on," Ultra Magnus insisted. "Why are you doing this for him? The two of you don't even get along!"

The blue Datsun just shrugged. "Can't help it, Mags. He's still my brother. I protect what he protects. That's all there is to it."

Smokescreen went back to rifling through Prowl's files, but Ultra Magnus wasn't done. He heard how the tone changed in his voice and saw the small frown etching itself on Smokescreen's face.

"You look disappointed, Smokescreen. You're not happy with what you found, are you?"

"Sorry, I'm still not going to tell you what it is. But don't worry, it's no big deal, trust me."

Ultra Magnus leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. "Is that why you're going through Prowl's files? You want to know what he's thinking. You're trying to understand him."

Smokescreen slouched back into his chair as he resumed his quest. "I've been spending my entire life trying to understand him. Today is no different."

* * *

After his recharging session, Sunstreaker returned to the artillery closet at the back of the Ark. After glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he eased the door open and looked inside. Laughter met his audials and he saw Bluestreak sitting cross legged on the ground talking in an animated fashion. Crystal was sitting across from him, her back to the door, laughing Bluestreak entertained her with stories about Jazz and Prowl in their younger days.

The gray Datsun made a nod in Sunstreaker's direction, acknowledging his presence without missing a beat of his story. Sunstreaker nodded back and then left the room. They seemed fine on their own and it would give him some time to himself. Also time to hunt down his brother and see what Sideswipe had been up to lately.

Unfortunately, the red Lamborghini was nowhere to be found. Whatever Sideswipe had his gears bent about had scared him completely off the grid. No doubt he was out speeding around somewhere Both of them liked to take off for the long, dusty desert freeways of Nevada when they really needed some time to unwind. Especially with all the roads being frozen up here, it was nice to head down south in the winter. Strange, usually Sideswipe liked company when he went and hardly ever left based without someone.

Oh well.

Sunstreaker wandered outside and stopped to admire the sunset, hands on his hips. One more day gone by. Only two more days of hiding left.

"Hey Streaker," a calm voice called to him. "Nice night, isn't it?"

The yellow Autobot turned to find Tracks sitting at the side of the volcano, hands folded behind his helm and gazing at the sky. His dark blue paint was a stark contrast to the snow around him.

"Yup," he agreed as he sat next to his friend and copied his pose. "Not bad at all."

"Are you getting sick of security detail yet?"

Sunstreaker shrugged a little. "Meh, it's okay. It's not really that hard. Just have to stay on your toes."

"And you have to put up with that human 24/7," Tracks reminded. "I don't think I could do it. She would drive me crazy by day one. Hour one."

"Crys? Nah, she's cool. I don't mind her too much. But it is nice to have a break."

Tracks frowned as Sunstreaker stretched his long legs.

"I find her base and uninteresting."

Sunstreaker smirked without looking at him. "You find everyone base and uninteresting, including me."

"Sideswipe doesn't seem to care for her either, I've noticed."

A small shadow of a frown appeared on Sunstreaker’s face plates at the mention of his brother.

"I wouldn't say dislike, but there's definitely something going on there. It seems almost like he's scared of her or something."

Tracks chuckled. "So he has a fear of femmes?"

"I don't think so. I've dated some real nut jobs back in the day and he held his own against them. It's gotta be something else. Maybe it's cuz she's human. Maybe that freaks him out."

"You mean you don't know? I thought Sideswipe tells you everything."

"Usually does. Can't get him to shut up otherwise, but when I ask about this, he just clams up and bails on me. I honestly don't know what his deal is."

"Strange."

"Yeah, if there ever was a word that described Swipes, that would be it." Sunstreaker watched the darkening sky as the winter moon came out. “He’s hiding something, or maybe... protecting it.” The yellow Autobot stared for a while and then shrugged. “Either way, it will come out sooner or later. I can wait.”

“Really.” Tracks fought to keep the incredulity out of his voice. “That’s uncharacteristically patient of you.”

“Yeah well, that’s part of having a brother. Love what he loves and protect what he protects and all that.”

Tracks let it go and they continued to watch the full moon whose light, both Autobots had to agree, made their paint jobs look stunning.

**Close File #010 Brothers: Bluestreak and Smokescreen**


	11. Sick

**The Autobot Files**

**File #010 - Sick**

Even as she screamed, Crystal couldn't hear what she was saying. She couldn't process in thought or sound the words that flew out of her mouth, no matter how loud she forced them out. The fact that her vocal processor merely increased in volume and she wasn't able to feel the strain of actually screaming only added to her frustration. If her optics had the ability to form tears, they would have been too full for her to see.

Sideswipe took the verbal thrashing without complaint. The two of them stood alone in the snow a few paces from the Ark's entrance. The red Autobot flinched then and again as Crystal's full anger was unleashed on him, but he did not back down or make any move to deter her wrath. His lack of response only angered her more and she screamed again.

By then, the ruckus had attracted the attention of other Autobots Curious heads peered out of the base.

Crystal's rage had hit its peak. Without any other outlet to release it on, she lurched forward and shoved Sideswipe in the chest. The startled Autobot fell backwards into the snow and stared at her with wide, stunned optics. Crystal returned the look with one similar to his own before turning and fleeing on foot across the countryside. She had to get away, away from all of them.

* * *

**FIVE DAYS EARLIER**

"Well, this is it," Ultra Magnus announced as he stood outside the Ark. "This was definitely a learning experience Optimus. I shall not forget it anytime soon."

It was now time to part. The week was up for Ultra Magnus and his crew. Sky Lynx had burned extra energon to get to Earth on time and was now refueled for departure back to Cyberton.

"We were happy to have you," Optimus confirmed. "I do hope you will return again. Next time, perhaps, as the commander of the Autobots on Earth."

Ultra Magnus nodded in agreement. Eventually moving an entirely different unit to Earth and getting the Earth Autobots back to Cybertron had always been the goal. They had certainly taken a large step in that direction this week.

"I look forward to it, Prime. Until we meet again, may the Matrix protect you."

Behind Optimus, Ultra Magnus noticed Smokescreen standing at the base entrance, leaning against the side. The blue Datsun offered a wave, but that had been the only thing offered from him the past few days. Whatever secrets he kept, he would keep for a long time yet. Ultra Magnus nodded to him and then stepped into the ship. The rest of his crew: Beachcomber, Skids, and Inferno followed. The latter stopped to look back before getting inside.

Red Alert was nowhere to be seen. No doubt his aft was still glued to that chair in the surveillance room and he was watching them board. Inferno was tempted to stay, but many of them had agreed that in order for Red Alert to regain his confidence, he would have to do it on his own. So Inferno boarded Sky Lynx as well, and back to Cybertron they went.

* * *

Inside the Ark, everything began to move forward again. The first Autobot to be officially briefed on Crystal's existence was currently in the medbay, examining her as she sat on a table.

"Fascinating," Perceptor said as he looked her over from all angles. "Complete organic consciousness transferred into a non organic body, extraordinary. I mean, I was aware you had done this before with Spike, I believe, but his transfer was less than 48 hours. This..."

"It's been a little over two months," Ratchet offered.

"Amazing! And her personality and memories? They are still all in tact?"

"As near as we can tell, the transfer was one hundred percent complete."

"Any side effects?

"A few glitches, but so far we've been able to correct them as they come."

"Does she—"

"I'm right here!" Crystal barked. "If you want to talk about me like I'm not here, I am happy to leave."

Perceptor had the good sense to look embarrassed. "Yes, you're quite right, my dear. Please pardon me. I sometimes forget that not all science is merely facts and data. That there is also life in there as well."

Crystal let it go. She found Perceptor quite interesting himself. He had a softer way about him than most of the other Autobots, both in speech and action. He obviously did not see as much battle as many of the soldiers on the base. It made her wonder what other types of Autobots were out there.

"And this is indeed a most unfortunate circumstance in which we have met," Perceptor went on. "But I consider it a privilege to have this opportunity to learn from your experience. I will be happy to be of any assistance in continuing your health and wellness if such need may arise."

"Uh, thanks," Crystal said stupidly. Her voice and speech sounded so crass next to his. "And you boys are welcome to science about this all you want, but I would really appreciate as little poking and prodding to my, uh, physical person as possible."

"Understandable, very understandable," Perceptor agreed with an energetic nod. He was already starting to get that look that Wheeljack got sometimes. That bright-opticed look when there was much experimenting to be done. "Perhaps I could at least observe you from time to time? For research purposes only, of course."

Crystal gave Ratchet a look that said she expected him to protect her in case this Autobot and his 'research' got out of hand.

* * *

As the day went on, Crystal was introduced to the other new arrivals. Smokescreen already knew about her and hardly gave her a glance before going on to do whatever it was he did. Powerglide seemed uninterested either way, as if it happened all the time, but was polite.

The one called Red Alert visibly twitched as he was given this new information. It appeared he already had enough data in his processor, learning something new was going to break him. Crystal asked if he needed to visit the med bay. Red Alert assured her he was fine and looked a bit comforted when he saw how calm and levelheaded she was.

After the formalities were out of the way, Crystal insisted she get back to her usual. She was still eager to learn as much as she could on general repair to both Cybertronians and the equipment they had within their base. It was usually Wheeljack's job to teach her, but since he wasn't around, Ratchet set up a schedule for her to perform basic repair and routine maintenance on Autobots and the base computer systems alike.

Performing these tasks, even if they were considered menial to others, made Crystal feel like she was doing something important. It gave her purpose to her day and she enjoyed it. Unfortunately, it made it very easy to find and corner those who wanted to talk to her. Mostly Perceptor.

Two days in and he had bombarded her with questions of every kind. They ranged from the practical to the downright random. Anything from how her short term and long term memory was to what was her favorite color, and if it was still her favorite color after her transfer to her metal body.

Crystal did her best to answer the questions while she attended to her own tasks. When they became too many, she would attempt to politely inform him she needed to get her work done. That only deterred him for an hour or two before he would come back with a new batch of questions.

By the third day, Crystal no longer bothered with being polite. She began developing what Brawn jokingly called her 'Ratchet Mode' in which she would only tolerate a few questions before getting annoyed and telling him to get the hell out so she could do her work. Perceptor seemed used to the treatment and never took it personally. Though as a result, he started visiting her less often and narrowing down his questions to the vital ones.

Red Alert came a few times to talk to her as well. Crystal didn't mind his visits at all. He seemed a lot more put together after their first meeting. His questions were few and circled around how he could better do his job to keep her safe. As they talked, she couldn't help but notice he and Perceptor had similar accents. They sounded English in her language, it made her wonder if the accents meant they were from the same area on Cybertron.

When she wasn't working, Crystal was a bit harder to find. She didn't like sitting around if she could help it and would often give herself her own tasks to do: either research or running tests of her own. Or, since the incident in the caves, there was one other activity she enjoyed doing.

Sideswipe meandered merrily through the base, not up to anything particular. Little did he know, someone was waiting around the corner. As he turned, Crystal jumped out in front of him and yelled "Boo!"

Sideswipe squawked and flailed his arms before stumbling around and taking off down the way he came. Crystal chuckled evilly to herself as she watched him go.

"Really Princess, this is how you spend your time now?"

She turned to see that both Hound and Brawn had witnessed her ambush. The latter folding his arms in disapproval.

"It's fun," Crystal grinned. "Besides, he's the one who started it."

"Very mature of you," Hound smiled back. "Though it isn't very nice."

"How do you think it makes me feel? He runs off like I've got some horrible disease every time he sees me. It hurts my feelings."

"Don't worry about it," Brawn insisted. "I said it before and I'll say it again, that boy isn't wired right. You can't take it personal."

"Still, I might as well get some entertainment out of it if nothing else," Crystal sang cheerily.

Hound and Brawn looked at each other and shrugged. Sideswipe sure gave out a lot of grief in his time, maybe it was his turn to get some back. It was harmless enough and Crystal was right, it was quite entertaining.

* * *

Sideswipe's comeuppance, however, was suddenly dished out as a much harsher punishment than anyone thought he deserved. A team had been dispatched as a result of nearby Decepticon activity. They had been gone the entire day. Late in the evening, Crystal was in the med bay when it was signaled for high alert. The team was returning and there were injuries, serious injuries.

Crystal looked up as the notice sounded in the med bay. Ratchet was already in action, working around the med bay to prep it for patients. A few moments later, Perceptor came in, ready to offer a hand as needed. Crystal watched them both uselessly, not knowing how to assist. A few more minutes and there was a wave of bodies as Autobots crowded into the room. Crystal quickly moved to a corner to stay out of everyone's way.

The biggest excitement was around Optimus Prime as he came in carrying another red painted form. Sideswipe's lifeless body hung in his arms. His optics were dark and his arms and legs dripped with pink, blue and black fluids. Crystal didn't get a good look, but she managed to notice there was a gaping hole in the Autobot's chest.

Ratchet ordered him set down and he and Perceptor both pounced on the body, looking to stabilize his condition and to stop the fluid leakage.

Just outside the med bay, another, louder commotion had broken out. Above it all was Sunstreaker's distinct voice screaming his rage at the top of his processor. Crystal quickly skirted around the group to the main doors. What she saw made her feel a little faint.

Sunstreaker was being held back by Brawn and Tracks. He was currently sporting a shattered windshield and an evil looking gash across his abdomen that spilled out generous amounts of fluids. Sunstreaker ignored the wound and continued to fight.

"Let go of me!" he snarled with a ferocity Crystal had never seen before. "You fraggers don't touch me! I need to get in there! Sideswipe!"

"There's nothing you can do," Brawn insisted in a steady voice. "Let the Doc handle it."

"You're making your own wounds worse," Tracks added, though he was a bit riled up himself. "Stop fighting! You're just hurting yourself!"

"I don't care! Let me go! He needs me in there! I swear to Primus I'll kill you both if you don't get your hands off me!"

Brawn nodded to Tracks to get the crazed Autobot on his knees where he would be easier to handle. Sunstreaker snarled in new rage as he was pulled to the floor.

At this point, Brawn noticed Crystal gawking at them.

"You might want to get out of here for a while, Princess. You don't need to see this."

Crystal instantly disappeared into the med bay, but only for a moment. She came back out with a small kit in her hands and steeled herself before kneeling in front of Sunstreaker. He lessened his struggling a bit with her in front of him, but didn't look any calmer.

"You're hurt," Crystal told him simply.

"Sideswipe got it worse," Sunstreaker growled back. "I have to help him."

She cupped his face in her hands. "You already did. You got him home."

Sunstreaker slumped at her words. The fight in him dissolved.

"How about you come with me and we'll get you cleaned up and repaired. Then you can wait with me to see how Sideswipe is, okay?"

Sunstreaker looked down at his knees. "Yeah...okay."

Slowly, Tracks and Brawn loosened their grip on the seeming defeated Sunstreaker. But as soon as he was free, the yellow Autobot lurched toward the med bay, knocking Crystal out of the way in the process.

"Sneaky little—" Tracks grunted as he tackled Sunstreaker again. He and Brawn pulled him back.

"I got them!" Bluestreak called as he ran towards them. He handed what looked like a pair of cuffs to Brawn who clapped them on Sunstreaker's wrists. Almost immediately, Sunstreaker's fight seemed to be drained out of him.

"What did you do?" Crystal asked as she got to her feet.

"Stasis cuffs," Brawn explained. "They limit several of the main systems so they don't have the strength to fight back."

"Can he walk?"

"Well enough."

"Good." Crystal's expression of worry changed to her business face. "Then get him up and follow me. He's a mess."

Tracks and Brawn pulled Sunstreaker to his feet. Bluestreak motioned to follow, but Brawn shook his head, signaling they were fine. Bluestreak ran off to assist elsewhere while Crystal led them down the hall. They entered the wash racks where Sunstreaker was sat on one of the benches.

"You may be feeling well enough to throw a fit, but we still need to put you back together so you can be there for Sideswipe,” Crystal said.

Sunstreaker let out a low growl, but didn't say anything else. She ignored him and went to fetch some cleaning cloths and a bucket. She filled it with solvent meant specifically for dissolving internal fluids and went to work washing the gunk off his chest first. There were a few smaller wounds revealed, but still nothing as big as the large gash down his midsection.

As Crystal cleaned the area and then dug into her kit for repair tools, Brawn decided he wouldn't be needed for a while and went to see where else he could help. Tracks opted to say in the doorway and watch over his friend.

The room fell quiet as Crystal worked. She pulled out a small welder and attempted to seal all the leaks dribbling out of the wound. Sunstreaker remained quiet, but he was clearly still not happy.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked as she worked.

“What do you know about it?” Sunstreaker growled lowly. “You’ve never seen a battle in your life. You just sit in here all nice and cozy, playing pretend like we’re a friggin’ family or something. But there’s a real war going on out there. We could die any day and you want me to talk about .”

Crystal kept calm at the accusations and didn’t look up from her work. “Yes, if it makes you fell better.”

For a moment, Sunstreaker looked as though he was going to lay into her again. The his scowl softened.

“I didn’t even see what happened,” he choked. “Swipe needed me and I was fighting somewhere else. I should have been there!” Sunstreaker stood and kicked the bench, tipping it over. “He needed me and I wasn’t there! Slag those fraggin’ Decepticons!”

That was all the strength Sunstreaker could muster with the stasis cuffs and he sank to the floor on his knees. Crystal gave him some space, letting him seethe and hiss out air through his vents until he calmed down.

When his rage had settled to his regular dark brooding, she ventured to approach again. She knelt next to him and carefully touched his shoulder. When Sunstreaker did not object, she leaned in closer and kissed the top of his head.

“You’re a good brother.”

Sunstreaker made a strangled noise of pained frustration. His face twisted in anguish and he pressed his forehead into her shoulder. Crystal's heart instantly went out to him and she put her arms around his shoulders and rested her cheek on his head.

"You did everything you could," she whispered. "He'll be okay."

The cuffed Autobot didn't say anything. His pride already hurt too much. Being cuffed on the floor in terror of losing the most important person to him was as low as he could get. In that instant, he felt like he didn't have the strength to bear it.

* * *

A while later, Sunstreaker was led back up to the med bay, Crystal at his side. The large gash was still there, but the leaking had stopped and it was clean. His stasis cuffs remained. Crystal didn't know how to take them off and no one else would. After what he tried to pull earlier, no one was willing to trust him as of yet.

Crystal helped him sit outside the med bay just as Ratchet poked his head out.

"Oh, you there are," he said to her. He paused to nod at Sunstreaker's current condition. "Good work. Now come with me. I need your assistance."

Crystal nodded, but turned to Sunstreaker before she left. "I'll see how Sideswipe is doing and let you know."

"Wait," Sunstreaker called. "Just stay with him and make sure he's taken care of. I'll feel better knowing he's not being manhandled like a piece of scrap."

"I'll do my best," Crystal said, though she had no idea what Sunstreaker thought she could do better than Ratchet.

Once inside the med bay, she saw evidence that Ratchet and Perceptor were overwhelmed with what the last battle had brought them.

Several Autobots were waiting in order of severity of their wounds. Crystal assumed she was going to get placed at the back of that line and work her way up fixing the smaller injuries. However, Ratchet led her up to the current focus of both medics.

Sideswipe lay on the main table, a twisted black hole where his shiny, red chest used to be. Tubes and wires snaked out of the gaping wound, maintaining his fluid and energy levels. Crystal couldn't stop staring. As bad as it was, she still couldn't equate a robotic wound compared to a human wound. To them, the damage probably looked ghastly. To her, she found it fascinating to be able to see further into their inner workings.

"What...happened to him?" she asked quietly.

"Sideswipe was apparently standing behind some kind of metal structure when Soundwave hit it with his pulse cannon at full power. The blast shattered the metal shielding, sending shrapnel tearing through his body. Plus being hit with the pulse cannon as well," Ratchet relayed.

"But he'll be okay, right?"

"We have him stable for now," Perceptor put in. "But I fear the integrity of his spark chamber has been compromised. My dear, we require the assistance of your delicate fingers."

He led her up to the side of the patient and Crystal got her first glimpse of the inside of a spark chamber. The shrapnel had stripped a corner of it away and a blue glow emanated from the gap. Perceptor manipulated what remained of Sideswipe's chest to remove the outer covering and then open the spark chamber inside. Crystal was transfixed with the glowing, blue orb revealed inside.

It hung aloft without touching the sides of the square chamber, floating under its own power. Within it swam a miniature lightning storm floating in a glowing blue ocean while it emitted a pulsing frequency that she could feel within her entire body. Crystal found herself completely mesmerized by it.

"Hey!" Ratchet clapped her on the back to snap her out of it. "Pay attention. There's shrapnel in the spark chamber. We need your small hands to remove it without damaging the spark."

Crystal peered into the chamber to see shards in the back wall while Ratchet dug through his instruments.

"Perceptor will supervise while I attend to other repairs. Try to pull them out without touching the spark.”

"It's kind of like that game, Operation," Crystal said to herself and then a bit louder. "Why not just get a magnet to slide them out of there?"

Ratchet instantly looked disappointed in her.

"Unfortunately, that would be very dangerous," Perceptor explained for him. "The magnet would no doubt erase his systems, not to mention do catastrophic damage to the spark itself."

Crystal instantly felt stupid. "Oh. Yeah."

Ratchet patted her on the head. "You get good ideas, kid, but you're still thinking like a human." He put a set of tweezers in her hand. "Just do the best you can."

Crystal nodded and leaned over the body. She worked quickly, but carefully as she removed the few offending extra pieces of metal that should be in an otherwise spotless spark chamber. Perceptor watched as she was able to remove all the shards without incident.

“I think there's one in it," she then said.

"In the spark?" Perceptor wondered. He fetched a metal device that looked similar to a pen and held it over to the spark. He shifted it to the left and the spark rotated in that direction until he could see the offending piece of metal.

"It appears it only penetrated the outer layer, which is why the spark is still stable. Remove it slowly. Make sure you don't press it in any further."

Crystal leaned in and pulled out the sliver of metal embedded in the beating mass of energy. She inspected the shrapnel, noticing a wet residue from the spark.

"What is this?" she asked.

"The spark has a gel like substance surrounding it as a final form of protection. It prevents dust and smaller particles from entering the nucleus of the spark, and quite possibly saved Sideswipe's life today."

"What exactly is a spark made of, Perceptor?"

"That is still one of the great mysteries, I'm afraid. Even taking care of a damaged spark is an incomplete science. Those before us knew its secrets and knew how to create new life. Unfortunately, we are not privy to such information."

Crystal nodded as Perceptor closed what remained of Sideswipe's chest cavity.

"I believe Ratchet wishes you to stay and assist us with the other repairs."

The rest of Sideswipe's repairs would now be saved for the very last. This was how Cybertronian med bays worked. In human hospitals, those with the worst injuries would be treated first. Here, life threatening injuries were stabilized and left in stasis lock while lesser injuries were given attention. It was a matter of efficiency.

On the battlefield, one never knew when the next attack would come. The soldiers who could be repaired the fastest were attended to first to get them back on duty. Those with massive injuries were left until the last.

That was Sideswipe's current situation. He was now in a stable condition and as a robot, could be left that way for years without any extra harm done. But Crystal just couldn't find it in her to leave him that way.

"May I stay and continue working on Sideswipe? Now that the hard part is done, I know how to fix the rest. I told Sunstreaker I would look after him. It's probably the only reason he's still waiting patiently outside."

Perceptor took a moment to consider. "Very well, if that is what you wish. But I request not to do anything that will make Ratchet cross with us."

"I'll do my best. Thanks Perceptor."

Once left alone, Crystal pulled out her small personal computer and flipped through the data base of schematics. She had the personal schematic of every Autobot on the base on file. Whether that was an invasion of their personal privacy or not, she wasn’t sure. But she had them all. She located Sideswipe’s and then set the computer on the table, tipping the screen so she could see what the internal chest cavity of his model was supposed to look like.

The first thing was to replace the broken side of the spark chamber with another square plate of heavy duty armor. The next order of business was to repair the energy and fluid lines so Sideswipe would no longer be on extra machines with cables sticking out of his chest.

It was meticulous work and took much longer than Crystal anticipated. Once finished, she was covered in grimy fluids, but she felt a sense of accomplishment over seeing Sideswipe's body fully functioning without the aid of other life support machines. Next was to replace all the remaining damaged parts. It wasn't as painstaking, but still took up time.

Crystal knew what she was doing for the most part. It was like putting together pieces of a puzzle and each piece was designed to go into a specific spot and work a certain way. Whenever she wasn't sure, she would return to her handheld and research until she found the information she needed. Twelve hours later, Sideswipe was mostly whole. All he needed was a new chest plate and a paint job.

Ratchet poked his head into her work corner to see how it was going and found Crystal sleeping with her head on the exposed chest. The medical officer quickly inspected the work and then left the med bay. Tracks and Sunstreaker were still camped outside. The former was reading something on a data pad while the latter had drifted into mild recharge. His head was on Tracks' shoulder with his mouth hanging open.

Ratchet cleared his throat. "Well isn't that cute."

Sunstreaker stirred irritably at the voice while Ratchet reached behind him to finally disengage the stasis cuffs.

"You can go see him."

Sunstreaker was instantly on his feet and rushed into the med bay. Upon finding his brother, he quickly inspected the open chest cavity. Everything looked replaced. He pushed a few buttons on Sideswipe's consul, starting up his main systems. Slowly, the engines whirred to life and eventually, his optics flickered on. He waited a few more moments for his memory and backup systems to boot before coming to life.

The first thing Sideswipe saw was his brother standing over him.

"Streak?"

His brother smiled. "Hey Swipe, welcome back."

Sideswipe looked confused. "My internal clock says I've only been offline for twelve hours."

"Yup. You got yourself some special medical attention." Sunstreaker clapped the sleeping Crystal on the shoulder and she stirred. Sitting up, she noticed Sideswipe was now online.

"Oh, you're awake. How do you feel?"

Sideswipe did not look happy as he sat up on his elbows. "You worked on me?"

She stood up and stretched her back. "Ratchet and Perceptor were too busy with everyone else."

Sideswipe lay back down, looking darkly at the ceiling. "I wish you didn't."

"Hey!" Sunstreaker shot, cuffing his brother on the side of his head. "She saved your life!"

"Well, not technically, I didn't save it. That was Ratchet, I just—"

"It don't matter! How about some gratitude, glitch head?"

Sideswipe rolled his head away from them. "Sorry," he said softly. "Thank you."

"Sideswipe, that's not—"

"You're welcome," Crystal cut him off. "Now excuse me, I need to go clean up."

As she left, she heard Sunstreaker mumble something to his brother but she couldn't hear what it was. She nodded to Ratchet on the way out. He would no doubt check her work and then finish the job. Crystal just wanted to get clean. She was covered in grease, lubricant, oil, energon, and who knew what else. Even with metal skin, it felt gross and she wanted nothing else but to get it off.

The wash rooms were empty as normal. They weren't often used unless one had gotten particularly filthy from being outside in the mud or something similar. Every day walking around didn't require much upkeep. So the washrooms didn't see as much traffic as a human shower room would.

Reaching the nearest shower head, she turned it on and stood blissfully under the running liquid. It wasn't quite water. It was processed with chemicals added to help cut the oil and grease that came with a metal body. Crystal still wasn't sure exactly what it was made of, but it certainly did the trick. All the grime washed off easily and her joints felt clean again. It was nice to know she could tell the difference between clean and dirty in this body.

In the middle of her shower, Crystal suddenly had the feeling she wasn’t alone. She looked around and saw Tracks standing in the doorway, watching her. Crystal frowned. The two of them were not on very good terms. They had experienced a rough first impression which had been only one of many awkward confrontations.

"Are you perving on me in the shower?" Crystal demanded.

"I'm not perving!" Tracks insisted, instantly offended and angry. "You flatter yourself if you think you have anything I want to see!"

"You're the one looking."

Tracks huffed at her. "Fine, I was going to thank you for helping Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, but I do believe I've changed my mind."

Crystal went back to scrubbing herself. "Like I care. I certainly didn't do it for your approval."

When she looked his way, the Autobot was gone.

* * *

For a day, everything went on as usual. Everyone was repaired and then released from the med bay. This included Sideswipe, who was given a clean bill of health from Ratchet after a thorough inspection and then sent on his way. To which he was doing right now, minding his own business, until he turned a corner and right in front of him was a smaller, pink female body.

"Ah HA!" Crystal announced, pointing at him.

Sideswipe immediately panicked, turned and bolted back the way he came.

This time, however, Crystal was right behind him.

"Hey! Get back here!"

This only caused Sideswipe to run faster as he raced through the Ark's entrance and into the snow. He was about to transform, but that voice called behind him.

"Wait! Wait! Damnit, wait!"

Somehow, the command froze his body and Sideswipe looked behind him, his optics wide. She charged toward him, not looking too happy.

"What's your deal? Why do you keep running away from me? Do you really hate me that much?" Crystal demanded. “Is it because I'm human?”

A pained expression filled his face and Sideswipe looked away. "No, it's not like that," he insisted quietly.

Crystal walked around so she could face him. "Then what is it?" Her voice dropped a bit. "I just want you to be honest with me. If I did or said something to you, you can tell me."

The red Autobot looked helpless. "That's not what it is. You didn't do anything, I swear."

"Then what?" She could hardly hide the exasperation in her voice. "What's going on?"

Sideswipe looked down at his feet. His body wobbled a bit. Crystal wasn't sure, but he almost looked ill to her.

"I...I can't..."

"Look you,” Crystal jabbed a finger in his chest. “I just put you together piece by piece. I think you owe me this."

The scared expression on Sideswipe's face told that deep down, he agreed. He opened his mouth to speak to her, but nothing would come out.

"Rocky...Rocky Mountains..." he finally managed to rasp. "Four years and one week ago. I...I was racing up a mountain pass. I wasn't paying attention....but then I saw the car sliding..."

Crystal narrowed her optics at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I was there. I'm sorry."

Unbidden, a memory came to Crystal's processor. If she had been human, she would have never recalled it. But as a robot, with every bit of data recorded in her mind as clear as the day it happened, it came with startling realization. At her parents funeral, everyone had gathered around the grave site as the two bodies were lowered to their final resting place. Crystal had been too consumed by grief to care, but she recalled a certain murmur that had gone through the crowd during that somber occasion.

The complaint was caused a cherry red lamborghini that kept circling the cemetery. A very inappropriate car for such an occasion and to add insult, the driver would never stop and get out. Crystal just stared at Sideswipe.

"That...was you. Why didn't you ever say anything to me?" Her voice suddenly rose as anger hit her. "I have lived here for three freaking months! Why didn't you SAY anything to me?!?"

Then, she was screaming at him. The words just blurred with her emotions and she couldn't control them. She couldn't get herself to calm down. The way Sideswipe took it all without any complaint or explanation just made her more furious. She was shaking with no outlet to expel her frustration. Without thinking, she shoved him in the chest. Sideswipe fell backwards into the snow, staring at her in disbelief.

Crystal stared back at him, surprised at herself. Then she turned and ran. Instead of heading back for the sanctuary of the Ark, she raced for the forest behind the volcano as fast as her legs could carry her. She didn't care how many times she tripped in the snow, she had to get out of there. It was the farthest away from the Ark she had ever gone in her robot state and once she hit the tree line, she didn't stop. She crashed right through it and kept going as far as she could.

Back at the base, the screaming had earned a bit of attention. Curious heads popped out to witness the scene.

"What the slag was that?" Sunstreaker demanded as he approached his stunned brother sitting in the snow.

Sideswipe recovered from his shock and suddenly looked ill. He moaned as he rolled over on his side.

"Bro...I don't feel well..."

"Oh come on, Sideswipe! Stop with that alread—"

Sideswipe's body suddenly heaved and he purged a rancid, green liquid from his mouth that hissed in the snow.

"Primus," Sunstreaker exclaimed as he jumped back. The last thing he wanted was for that nasty stuff to get on his paint job. "You really are sick. Hold on, I'll go get Ratchet."

* * *

An hour later, Sideswipe lay in stasis in the med bay, all his systems turned off. Ratchet had opened him up from vocalizer to energy tank to inspect the damage. It took him a while to confirm it wasn't the fault of any contagious virus before he let Sunstreaker or anyone else in to see his patient. Optimus Prime was with him when the yellow Autobot was finally admitted in.

"So, what happened?" Sunstreaker asked both Perceptor and Ratchet as he inspected Sideswipe's body. "What's he got?"

"Technically, he doesn't have anything," Perceptor explained. "This isn't any type of bug or virus. What happened to Sideswipe here is very uncommon, but not unheard of."

"Well, what is it?" Sunstreaker demanded. "What did this to him? Give me some answers!"

Optimus Prime put a hand on his shoulder as a warning to calm down. Sunstreaker backed up a bit, but still didn't look happy.

"Basically, he did it to himself," Ratchet replied.

"It's really quite fascinating," Perceptor cut in. "You see, there's no scientific evidence to support it and—"

Ratchet shook his head at him and Perceptor quickly shut up. Now was not the time.

"He stressed himself out," Ratchet finished. "Sometimes when a bot is under long term emotional duress, their systems start to feel the pressure and react. In Sideswipe's case, his stress was causing his systems to produce too much battery acid. It was slowly eating everything from the inside. Which is why I couldn't tell why Sideswipe was sick. It was happening internally. Something like that is near untraceable until systems start failing or he coughs something up."

"But the situation is repairable, correct?" Optimus asked.

"Yeah," Ratchet sighed. "It's going to be quite a job. I'll have to replace every part the acid has eaten through, but I can put him back together again. Unfortunately, doing that won't fix the original source of the problem. Sideswipe needs to cut down on the emotional stress or he's going to have the same thing happen again."

At this point, Red Alert entered the med bay and approached his leader.

"Our little runaway is completely off the grid. Without a tracking signal or spark signature, none of my equipment can find her. Even Sky Spy satellite can't find her. The forest is too thick."

"It will be tough to arrange a search party," Optimus said. "Too many Autobots would do more harm than good to the habitat."

"May I suggest giving her some time to come back on her own?" Perceptor offered. "She strikes me as a pragmatic individual. Perhaps she merely requires solitude for a while. The Ark is, after all, the only home she has."

"That may be," Optimus agreed. "But it doesn't sit well with me that she is out there all by herself."

"Me Grimlock help," announced the large figure in the doorway. "Me send Swoop to forest to watch. Swoop find. Make sure she come back okay."

"Alright. We'll do that for now and see how it goes. Everyone keep me posted."

* * *

Thirty-six hours later, Omega Supreme landed in front of the Ark, effectively melting all snow in the wake of his thrusters. A small cluster of Autobots exited to greet them and Wheeljack instantly put them to work unloading all the equipment he had convinced Prowl to let him take back.

Optimus Prime had wisely avoided the manual labor to greet the returning Autobots instead.

"How did you enjoy your vacation on Cybertron, Mirage?" he asked as the blue Autobot came down the ramp.

Mirage gave him a thankful, yet sad smile. "It was very nice to see it again. Though it will never be the same as I remember it, I'm afraid."

"Maybe one day," Optimus clapped him on the shoulder.

"Though I did have fun," Mirage added. "I even got to help Prowl strengthen a few political ties with a neighboring race. That was kind of fun."

Optimus looked over to Prowl who was going over his roster. "Oh?"

"I will send you the full report momentarily," Prowl replied, not looking up from his list. After a while, he raised his head and looked around expectantly. It was obvious by his face that Smokescreen's approach was not what he had been searching for. But the blue Autobot grinned at him anyway.

"Heya, Prowl. Glad you had a safe trip.”

Prowl returned his smirk with a frown. "Where's Bluestreak?" The gray Datsun was always there to greet or send Prowl off if he was able. Prowl's question was a valid one.

Smokescreen shrugged as Prowl scanned the entrance of the Ark a few meters away. "I dunno. He's been sulking around for the last week saying he broke a promise. Now he's been hiding ever since Omega showed up on radar."

Prowl shot a sharp look at him. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything."

The second in command didn't look convinced and started towards the base.

"I'm telling you the truth," Smokescreen followed after him, irritated. "I didn't do anything! Why don't you ever believe me?"

Optimus and Jazz watched the two Datsuns leave.

"Here we go," Optimus said.

"Hey, you're the one who asked for his transfer," Jazz responded, holding his hands up.

"I did," he admitted. "At least things won't be dull around here."

"For sure. So where have you been keeping Crys? Does she know we're back?"

His leader's shoulders visibly slumped. "About that..."

* * *

Once in the base, Prowl activated his tracking system to zero in on Bluestreak's location. He found him hiding behind one of the recharge berths looking guilty.

"Bluestreak, what happened?" Prowl asked.

The gray Datsun looked extremely unhappy and silently pulled his knees up to his chest.

Prowl looked back to glare at Smokescreen..

"I told you, I didn't do anything!"

Prowl knelt down to Bluestreak and spoke softly. "Blue, where is she?"

Bluestreak wouldn't look at him.

"Oh her?" Smokescreen wondered as he picked at a finger joint. "She took off yesterday and we haven't seen her since."

Prowl jumped to his feet, his door panels erect and twitching in agitation. "What?!"

* * *

Fleeing into the forest was as far as her plan went. She didn't know what she would do after that and she didn't care. All she wanted was to get as far away from that place and all those robots. Even as she continued to stumble in the loose snow and the bare branches snapped in her wake and scratched at her thin armor, she didn't stop. Her body couldn't get physically tired anymore, she could run for a very long time. And run she did.

Further and deeper into the forest she went, far away from civilization. She ran until the initial panic wore off and then she walked, still moving away from everything, from the only place she could call home. Confusion filled her. Why had she reacted that way? It had come out of nowhere. But she could not bring herself to turn around and go back, not yet.

The sun began to set, but Crystal didn't worry much about it. It was an odd feeling to put away such human worries as sleep and food and shelter out here in the wilderness. She didn't get cold. She didn't need to rest or eat. She didn't have to worry about predators and she could see in the dark. It was a runaway child's fantasy come true.

That thought made Crystal pause. Was she acting like a child, running away from her problems? What exactly was she running away from in the first place? One of those Autobots had been there during her parents' last hours. He could give her information. He could tell her what happened.

That Autobot—Sideswipe—was she blaming him for what happened? No, that wasn't it, though she wanted to. Was she angry he had never told her before? Of course she was. She was furious about that. But her anger wasn't what made her retreat in a panic. It was something else. That one thing that kept haunting her time and time again. Coincidence.

It was her mother who was to blame for putting it in her head. She always insisted that everything not only in the world, but in the universe, was connected. Everything everywhere happened for a reason. And while Crystal would nod and allow her mother to believe what she wanted without argument, Crystal never believed it herself. There was too much going on for _all_ of it to happen for a reason.

Yet, time and time again, life molded strangely around her like something knew where she was and what she was planning. Like it had plans for her. And Crystal didn't like it one bit. To come into such intimate contact with these alien life forms out of the blue was bad enough, but it learn they had already been playing a part in her life long before she knew them was hard to take.

Suddenly, all their kind felt too close. Like they were smothering her and dragging her into their world. Everything that used to be her was going to get locked away and left behind. She had to get out of there. She couldn't stand their fate and hers intertwining any longer. There had to be a way to break free.

Now she was far away and alone for the first time in almost three months. The solitude was refreshing, cleansing. It felt good to have nothing but herself around her. For the first time since she had changed, she felt she was finally allowed to delve within herself and see what was there. The Ark was too busy and too full of that which was so different, she could hardly think. Crystal had no desire to go back to it anytime soon.

There was a woosh as something large flew overhead and, despite its impressive wingspan, it managed to navigate through the trees toward her. It slowed abruptly before running into her and transformed, landing in robot mode.

Crystal looked at him in annoyance. "What do you want?"

"Grimlock send me Swoop to find."

“I'm found, now go back."

The Dinobot cocked his head at her. "Me Swoop think...that not what him Grimlock mean."

"Not my problem," Crystal said as she turned to go. "I'm not ready to go back yet so tell them that."

She walked away and was very unhappy to hear heavy footsteps and cracking branches behind her. She spun around, optics flashing.

"Stop following me! Go back to the base!"

The Dinobot back stepped, but showed no signs of leaving. That did not help Crystal's temper.

"Swoop, I'm serious. Go away!"

He glanced back in the direction he had come, looking worried.

"But...me Swoop..."

"I DON'T CARE! I want you to leave me alone! Go away, you stupid robot!" She was very tempted to pick up something and throw it at him. Not that anything she could throw would hurt him. But she fought the urge and, instead, started off again faster, breaking into a run.

"Don't follow me, I mean it!" she barked into the woods.

Once again, she ran as fast as she could, stumbling and scrambling to get further away. At one instance, she tripped and her face fell into a dead tree, cutting into the metal plating. Her fingers instantly went to the cut. Nothing leaked out. It wasn't deep enough to break any wiring beneath it. So she got to her feet and took off again. After a while, she dared to look back and didn't see the Dinobot anywhere behind her. Gazing through the tree tops, she couldn't find any evidence that Swoop’s massive form was hovering above her either. This slowed her pace, but she still kept going.

At this point, she had no idea how far she was from the Ark or any point of civilization, but it still didn't feel far enough, and that in and of itself was confusing. The fact that she had to get away not only from the Autobots, but from all humanity to feel herself was a bit disconcerting. Also the fact that she realized that in all this time, she had never interacted with a human, those she used to be like. What would have happened if she did? Would it make a difference or would it break that fragile thread she had only just recently been aware of.

Once realizing this, Crystal stopped walking. She stood and looked all around her. It was dark now, but she could see the trees surrounding her in every direction. The snow started falling, fat, full snow flakes. On some parts of her body, it melted instantly and other parts it stayed. She stood there stupidly, letting the snow fall on her. The urge to run was finally gone. But there was still no urge to return. There was only silence, trees, and snow.

Without the will to do anything further, Crystal sat heavily in the snow and leaned herself against a pile of boulders. She could stay out here for days if she wanted to. That sounded like a grand thing to do at the time. Just sit in the wilderness and enjoy the quiet and think. Emotionally fatigued, her optics started to flicker out and she slowly slipped into sleep mode. The snow continued to fall on top of her exposed body and she didn’t care.

* * *

Crystal awoke to something yellow with giant eyes staring at her. She balked and scrambled away, disturbing the snow that had drifted up around her. She could feel her fuel pump jump into action at her sudden movements as she stared at Swoop's dinosaur mode.

"You again," she said. This time, it was without accusation.

"Swoop watch Crystal because Swoop want to. Make sure you safe. Can yell at Swoop all you want. Swoop stay."

Crystal's face instantly went from slightly annoyed to defeated. She sighed as she leaned against her pile of boulders.

"I suppose it can't be helped then."

The Dinobot flickered his optics at her. "Crystal not angry at Swoop no more?"

"I guess not."

Swoop made a happy noise and folded his wings, laying his massive head in her lap. Crystal was surprised at first, but then accepted it, scratching his neck behind the crest. Swoop made a bird like noise deep in his throat. Having Dinobots was like having pets sometimes.

Crystal looked up when she heard a noise from the sky. It sounded like some sort of air craft. It came closer until it was hovering right over her, making the tree tops shutter and shake. The white shuttle was hard to make out against the gray sky. A rope was released from the craft and two figures slid out of the cargo hold to the ground. Crystal pushed Swoop off her and stood up as the new arrivals landed in the snow.

"There is nowhere for me to land here," Skyfire radioed to them. "But I see a clearing due West. I'll meet you there."

"Roger that," Prowl responded. "We'll be there shortly."

Crystal looked at them, her hands on her hips. "So, you found me."

Jazz nodded. "Yup. Thanks to Swoop, we zeroed right in on your position."

Crystal glared at the Dinobot who shrank under it.

"Me Swoop go back now," he said quickly and took off into the sky.

Jazz watched him go and then turned to Crystal, extending a hand to her. "You ready to go back to base now?"

"No."

Both Autobots looked surprised.

"No?" Prowl repeated.

"No," she confirmed. "I left because I needed to and I will come back when I am ready."

Prowl and Jazz looked at each other.

"But...we are worried about you being out here by yourself," Prowl reasoned.

"What for?" she asked, tapping her chest plate. "I'm made of metal, I can be out here for days. This environment can't hurt me."

Prowl couldn't argue with that logic and was starting to look a bit helpless. Jazz, however, pressed his mouth in a stubborn line and started towards her.

"What?" Crystal demanded, backing away from him.

"What do you mean what? I haven't seen you in three weeks. Come. Here."

Reluctantly, Crystal approached and Jazz pulled her into his arms the moment she was close enough.

"You make me feel bad that you didn't miss me," he informed her.

Her tough shell seemed to soften at those words. "I did miss you," she said softly.

Jazz smiled as he pulled back to look her in the face. He grazed his thumb over the scratch that ran down her cheek. "Do you want to tell me about what happened?"

Her voice went flat again. "No."

Jazz looked skyward as if asking whatever powers he believed in to help him. "Primus, you're so stubborn."

Prowl put a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Come back with us." The tone of his voice stated this wasn't a mere request. “When everyone sees you are fine, they will stop worrying and then you can go back to the woods if you wish—closer to the base."

Crystal looked at him, obviously not agreeing with that plan. But Prowl’s expression was firm. He was obviously a bot who didn’t hear the word no very often. He gave her the impression that if she didn’t do it, he would make her do it.

"Fine," she relented and started off in the direction Skyfire went without waiting for them. She climbed into the waiting jet and sat down, folding her arms to express she wasn’t happy. Jazz ignored her attitude and waved a square device in her face.

"What is this?" she wondered as she took it. She pushed the red button on the device and a picture flashed on the screen. Without any way to make a paper-type substance, this was what Cybertronians used for photographs. It was an image of Prowl looking tenderly down at a bundle in his arms.

"I told you I'd bring you back something pretty," Jazz grinned.

A smile began to form on Crystal's face. "Prowl, you are so cute."

His mouth set in a firm line and he looked away at the compliment.

"And check out this one," Jazz continued as he swiped to reveal the group picture he took. "This is right after our big mission saving the prince of a neighboring planet."

Crystal definitely couldn't let that one go. Intrigued, she demanded to hear the whole story. Jazz eagerly enjoyed having all her attention on him while he relayed it with much enthusiasm and a bit, Prowl noted, embellishment.

When Skyfire landed at the base, Crystal seemed to be in brighter spirits. When she exited, there were more than a few relieved faces though plenty wouldn't say anything about it out loud. One of the first Autobots she saw was Wheeljack and she hugged him with a small squeal.

Jazz watched on jealously. That was the type of greeting he expected to get when he got home.

"Wheeljack! Did you bring me stuff? For my new body?" she asked, optics bright.

Wheeljack mirrored her enthusiasm, eager to share what he found on Cybertron, whether it benefited her or not.

"Let's go to my workshop and I'll show you!"

* * *

Fun time with Wheeljack was short lived when Ratchet and Perceptor got a hold of her and dragged her back into the med bay for inspection. Ratchet got to work cleaning out all the forest debris from her joints and frowning at the scratch on her face. Perceptor wanted to take a processor scan to which Crystal indulged him.

"Is this the first large outburst you've had since you've been in this body?" Perceptor wondered as he looked at the results of his scan.

Crystal felt a bit embarrassed at the question though the scientist hardly seemed interested in the cause of her original distress, only the affect it had on her processor.

"I really don't think of myself as an emotional person," she admitted. "It's not like me to get bent of out shape that often."

Perceptor actually looked disappointed. He wanted to test her against emotional stress to see if there were any long term affects. She didn't seem to be a very helpful subject.

"Ratchet," Red Alert called as he walked purposefully into the med bay. "Make sure she gets a homing signal installed while you're working on her."

"Oh, thanks for asking me if I want one," Crystal shot at him.

Red Alert was surprised at the accusation. "But everyone has one. It's how we can locate you."

"So you can know my exact position at any given time?"

"Exactly."

"Yeah, no thanks."

"What do you mean?" Red Alert began to get a little twitchy like he was the first time she met him. "It's for your safety."

Crystal stubbornly folded her arms. "It's also an invasion of my privacy. It's not your business where I am all the time."

"But—" Red Alert choked. "But, but but but..."

"I said I don't want it. You can't make me get one," Crystal insisted. "I will, however, finish installing my radio so anyone can contact me if they just can't _live_ without knowing where I am."

"I do not appreciate your sarcasm," Red Alert informed her. "I'm trying to do my job."

"And you're doing a very good job," Crystal insisted as she hopped off the table. "I'll tell you what, when they start sending me off on military missions, you can put a homing device on me."

She kissed the top of his head before any further argument could be made and walked out the door. Red Alert stood there, moving his mouth, trying to make some kind of remark.

"Don't worry about it Red," Ratchet said as he turned to organize his tools. "That's how she gets in the last word with all of us."

* * *

After visiting the energon dispenser, Crystal decide to retire to her room, passing the surveillance room as she went.

"Hey, where you going?" A voice called.

She paused in the doorway and peered inside. Jazz stood there, overseeing all the operations while Mirage sat at one consul and Smokescreen was stationed in the back at another.

"I'm tired. I'm going to my room for the night," Crystal told him.

"And?" Jazz demanded.

Crystal looked at him blankly.

Jazz tapped his foot. "Where's my 'Good night Jazz, I love you'?"

She smiled and walked up to him, throwing her arms around him in a less than serious fashion and kissing the side of his helmet. "Good night Jazz, I love you."

"That's better," he grinned. "Only a few weeks apart and you forget, huh?"

"Never," she promised. "Just got thrown off my routine." Then she went over and hugged Mirage around the neck from behind his chair. "Night Mirage. It's good to have you back."

He patted her arm. "Good night."

She righted herself and noticed Smokescreen in the back looking at her expectantly. She gave him a less than affectionate look. That was for locking her in that horrible room. She didn't care who he was related to, she thought he was a jerk. He seemed more amused than offended, however, when she turned her back on him and walked away.

Almost out the door, she nearly ran into Prowl who was coming in. She stopped herself as he grabbed her arm to prevent them from colliding.

"Oh, good night Prowl, love you." She kissed the side of his face right below the optic.

Prowl's arm started to move around her shoulders but paused when he saw Smokescreen and let them both drop at his side.

"Have a good night." He nodded and she went on her way.

Prowl had time for one cold look in Smokescreen's bemused direction before moving off as well.

* * *

Once finally alone in her room, Crystal lay on her small cot, arms folded behind her head. She no longer wanted to run from the base. It was actually nice to be back. Though she didn’t know if it was because certain Autobots were now home or if whatever caused her emotional frenzy was now over. She still wasn't sure how to feel about all of it. Maybe Perceptor was looking for the right problem. Maybe it was in her programming and not in her emotions. Who was to say?

There was a knock at the door, which was unusual for this time of night. Though Crystal didn't sleep every night, when she retired to bed, no one bothered her until she came out again. She had a curious look on her face when she answered the door. There was Sunstreaker pressed against the wall, just barely peeking in. He started right in before she could ask him what he was doing there.

"Listen, uh, I just wanna say I'm sorry for when I got after you earlier. I was acting like a real..."

"Asshole?" Crystal finished for him.

"Yeah."

She smiled. "So are you my Sunshine again, or shall we call you Asshole from now on?"

If Sunstreaker had the ability, she decided, he would have flushed a bit.

"The first one," he mumbled, looking down.

"Good," she nodded. "Anything else?"

He looked back up at her, his expression confident again.

"Yeah." He swing his whole body into the doorway and Crystal had to step back as Sideswipe was flung into the room. The red Autobot looked like he wanted to bolt, but Sunstreaker stood menacingly in the doorway, blocking his escape.

"I'm tired of doing this dance. We need to fix this right now." He shut the door behind him to further prove that no one was going to leave until it was settled.

Crystal had retreated to the back wall when Sideswipe was thrown in. The same anger as before flashed on her features when she saw him. Then confusion began to take over at her initial response. She didn’t know how to react. All she did know was that she didn't want to stay here with him.

But Sunstreaker was not allowing anyone to leave. When she saw there was no getting out, Crystal sat down tentatively on the edge of her cot. The look on her face made Sunstreaker want to sit with her, but then it would look like it was them against his brother and that wasn't the case. Sunstreaker was here for both of them so he stayed by the door.

"Well?" he demanded. "Start talking. You two need to get this figured out or I'm going to go nuts."

Sideswipe looked guiltily to the ground. Crystal opened her mouth, but nothing came out for a while.

"I... don't know what to say," she said softly. "How long did you know?"

Sideswipe fiddled with his hands. "When...they began to rebuild you, I found out. I didn't know it was you until then."

"But why didn't you ever come find me and say anything then?" Crystal pressed. "I remember seeing you at the funeral. Why didn't you try to contact me?"

Sideswipe hunched further and looked away.

“Can you tell me what happened? Up there on the mountain that day?"

Sideswipe's face shot up to meet hers, his expression one of horror. Sunstreaker saw that expression and something in his gut flip-flopped. Sideswipe didn't...kill them, did he?

Crystal already seemed to know the answer.

"You didn't cause the accident, did you?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.

Sideswipe finally looked at her, regret clear on his face.

"I saw the car swerve and hit the tree as I was coming around the bend. I was too far away to be able to stop it from happening. I ran over to see if there was something I could do to help but..." He looked away to the ground. "Your father was already... he was killed instantly. Your mother—my scanners said there was a chance she would survive her injuries. I radioed 911 as I tried to help her..." Sideswipe paused despite himself as the memory ran over him. He would never forget it.

_The snow was still falling heavily as Sideswipe ran to the vehicle. The car was crushed against a thick tree, the driver's side mangled beyond recognition. A quick scan of vital systems showed him the driver was already offline. But the passenger was still alive. Sideswipe scrambled over and tore off the passenger door._

_"Hang in there, okay? I've called for an ambulance."_

_The woman in the passenger seat didn't move. Blood dribbled down the side of her face. His scanners said she had internal trauma from the crash. She stirred when the cold air hit her._

_Sideswipe felt relieved that she was moving, but he had no knowledge of human first aid. No one else was on the road to help._

_"It will be okay, just don't move. Help is coming."_

_At the sound of his voice, the woman looked up. Often times, the first glance of an Autobot resulted in surprise or fear, despite the fact they were well known world wide by now. It still wasn't the same as seeing one in person for the first time. However, this human woman looked thankful to see him and smiled weakly in his direction. Then she turned her head to her companion and saw clearly that he was no longer with her._

_"I'm so sorry," Sideswipe said quietly as he lay down as close to the car as he could. "Please,_ _tell me what I can do for you. How can I help you?"_

_The woman turned back to him, a sad smile on her face. "There is something very important you can do for me. I need you to find someone, my daughter, after I'm gone."_

_"Woah! Wait, wait!" Sideswipe objected. "Don't talk like that! You're going to be fine. Help is coming. You'll be okay. They'll save you."_

_The woman looked over at her deceased partner. Her husband. The one that had taken the brunt of the impact for her. It was no coincidence he had steered himself into the tree first. Then she looked back at Sideswipe._

_"I'm not going anywhere. This is where I belong. I must go and be with him. I need you to find my daughter and let her know that what happened here was not a bad thing. Everything happens for a reason. Her father and I, we will be okay. My name is Libby Carlyle. My daughter's name is Crystal."_

_"No, I'm sorry. I am not telling some kid I watched their parents die," Sideswipe insisted. "You better live through this, human, because I'm not going to be your messenger."_

_She just gave him a tired yet secretive smile and shook her head. "You don't have a choice." Her voice was weaker now, as if she were willing her own body to start slowing down. "We are all connected now. Fate brought this together. Now, no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to avoid it, your paths will cross. It's not up to you, you will have to see her sometime."_

_Sideswipe jumped back as if he received an electric shock. His fuel pump was racing. For a being whose culture had no sense of time or limited life spans, they knew nothing of destiny, of a person's ultimate purpose. There was no ultimate purpose. To be told to his face that there were now powers out there beyond his control. That something had taken a hold of him and was pulling him forward despite himself, it was a horrifying thing for someone like him to hear._

_Only a few seconds and he managed to gather himself and crawl back to the vehicle. The spark of life in the woman had already faded away, a peaceful look on her face and her hand clasping the hand of the man she loved. Both of them were dead._

Crystal listened to the story silently, her head down. Her face was unreadable, as if on the verge of emotion, but unsure of which one to feel.

"I'm sorry it took me this long to tell you this," Sideswipe said. "At first, I had tried to contact you a few times, but I could never do it."

"Why?" Crystal asked softly. "Why wouldn't you come talk to me?"

Sideswipe jerked his head away. "I don't know. I guess... I just couldn't stand the thought of telling someone one of their creators chose not to come back home to them."

Crystal nodded blankly. It had been a mystery that had haunted her. She had been told her mother's injuries had not been fatal, but she had passed on before the paramedics got there and no one could tell her exactly what she died from. Her mother had made a conscious decision to not be left behind by the man she loved more than anything in the world. Even more than her own child...maybe. That was her mother. She did a lot of things in her life that Crystal didn't understand. Her and her crazy ideology about fate and destiny. Crystal had stopped trying when she was a teenager to understand what went through her mother's mind.

"Also," Sideswipe added in a small voice. "Maybe I was afraid of what would happen. That..." He paused before the word "human" came out. That was not an appropriate term at the moment. "...woman told me I had no choice, that I would have to tell you whether I wanted to or not. I guess I thought if I told you, I would get pulled into something else. That after it started, it wouldn't stop. And I didn't want some...dead human dictating what I did." Frustration was clear in his voice at the end.

Crystal wasn't sure what to say to that, neither was Sunstreaker. However, Sideswipe wasn't done.

"And then you showed up anyway." He was looking her in the face now. "And when I knew it was you I thought...maybe..." His gaze jumped around the room, unable to stay on her face. "I thought maybe it was my fault that you are here. Because I didn't talk to you then. Some...power forced you to come to me." He paused as the agitation and frustration began to build once more.

"What does that even mean? Why did all this happen! I don't understand it at all! I don't get why that human freaked me out so much, but I can't get it out of my head. And now there's not a thing that happens where I don't wonder if it's pulling me forward. Like the Decepticons scrapping me. Then you coming to fix me. It all led to this conversation."

Sideswipe looked at Crystal again, and this time his stare stuck on her.

"I am so sorry for what happened and for not coming to you sooner, but you have got to explain to me what the slag is going on. I don't think I can take much more of this."

Crystal fought the urge to look at the ceiling. If anyone could play mind games with a giant alien robot, even from the grave, it would be her mother. After all, the woman had years and years of practice on her own family. She had a very strong belief system in higher powers that led the course of one's life and she had an eerie way of expressing it. It was as if she could see the path and she knew beyond a doubt which things in life one had no control over. Maybe she could see it.

For Crystal, it was bad enough to hear it all the time growing up. But for one of these alien beings to get a full shot of her mother without warning, she couldn't even imagine. Jazz had told her once that fate and destiny seemed irrelevant to their kind. Optimus Prime said they weren't used to change. It happened very, very slowly on their planet. Maybe they did have a form of destiny there, but to have so many drastic changes in a matter of months, even years, for Sideswipe, it must have felt like he had been grabbed by the foot and was dragged kicking and screaming the whole way.

"You're reading too much into it," Crystal said as she stood up. Though she understood, she didn't have much sympathy for Sideswipe. "None of this would have happened any differently no matter if she had said anything to you or not. Stop dwelling on it so much and just go on living life as normal." She paused and added, "It's all any of us can do, really. No sense spending all our time wondering if something is forcing us into it."

"I agree," Sunstreaker stated. It was the first thing he said in a while. "You've been letting this thing spook you for too long. Get over it and get off the floor." He clapped Sideswipe on the shoulder. "My sensitive little brother...."

Sideswipe said nothing under Sunstreaker's scrutinizing gaze.

"Okay you two," the yellow Autobot then announced. "Hug and make up so I don't have to put up with this crap anymore."

Sideswipe and Crystal looked at each other. Neither looked too willing. But Crystal did put a hand on his arm.

"Don't worry about it. What's done is done. And believe me, I've learned it doesn't help anyone to worry about things you can't control. Just...do want you can, okay?"

Inside, Crystal died a bit as she said that. It didn't seem fair. She was the one who was just told her mother chose not to live and come home that night, and she was the one comforting the overreacting giant robot. No, it wasn't fair at all.

"Yeah, okay. I'm sorry," Sideswipe said again.

"That's fine," Crystal responded. Her voice was a bit flatter than she would have hoped for. "Now get out of my room."

The brothers stared at her for a while and then decided she was serious. With muttered good-byes they vacated the area and shut the door behind them.

Crystal plopped on her cot with a deep sigh when she was finally alone. She had to admit, it had been a frustrating couple of days and she had not planned for it. It was even more frustrating to know that she could not quit this lifestyle and move on to something else. This was her life. Forever. For longer than any human ever lived she would be like this. In that moment, she couldn't help it. The thought of it made her sick.

**Close File #010 Sick: Sideswipe**


	12. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I reread this, I was greatly reminded that it was written ten years ago with the celebrities mentioned. I ain't changing it.

**The Autobot Files**

**File #011 - Broken**

The sound of happy chattering caused Brawn to look up from where he and Trailbreaker were cleaning their weapons. It was usually reserved as an indoor activity, but after a very snowy month, January was finally ending off with a cloudless day. The two Autobots wanted to take advantage of the sunshine while they could. In the clear winter air, one specific voice floated up to them as its owner traipsed around the dormant volcano's base, chatting endlessly to his companion.

Trailbreaker followed Brawn's gaze and grinned. "Look who finally blipped on Sideswipe's radar. Poor kid. She's not going to stand a chance now."

Brawn shook his head, but managed a chuckle. "At the risk of sounding sparkless, better her than us."

"Agreed," Trailbreaker confirmed and went back to cleaning his favorite blaster.

Behind them, Crystal was trying to out walk Sideswipe while he helped her carry in some odds and ends of Wheejack's. It was not working. The red Autobot had longer legs than she. He kept up quite easily, much to Crystal's despair.

It had been a few days since Sideswipe's big confession and with the way it went, Crystal didn't plan on seeing him too often after that. Sure, she didn't expect him to freak out and run away like he used to, but this...she almost preferred the way it used to be.

The tall red Autobot seemed to have taken it upon himself to make up for lost time. Whenever he could, he would hunt her down and talk happily at her all day long. He was just as bad as Bluestreak, possibly worse. At least sweet little Bluestreak always tried to rope it in for the sake of being polite and everything he said was sincere. With Sideswipe, all he wanted to talk about was stories about himself. They were fun at first to hear about all the hairy incidents he had Sunstreaker had gotten into, but now it was getting old.

"Really Sideswipe," Crystal interrupted his current story. Something about some bar fight on Cybertron. She was trying really hard not to listen. "I'm sure it was awesome, but I really have work to do."

"Just let me finish this. It's the last one, I promise," Sideswipe insisted. "You gotta hear what this guy said to me and Sunny when we..."

Crystal picked up the pace again, practically flying into Wheeljack's workshop. Sideswipe was still talking and keeping up as easily as if it were a casual stroll.

His story must have ended because it was quiet enough for Wheeljack to speak to her. "Thanks for cleaning those up. I forgot we were getting another storm last night."

"I hope it's the last one for a while," Crystal responded. "I'm tired of winter. That damn groundhog better give us good news come Friday."

It took Wheeljack a while to understand that statement. Oh yes, Groundhog's Day. As human holidays went, that one was one of the strangest. Even more so than bunnies that lay eggs or flying deer. A large rodent that controls the weather. What will humans think up next?

"Oh! That reminds me of another story!" Sidewipe announced.

Crystal groaned and make no attempt to hide it. "Can it wait until later? I have other things to do."

"But this one is so cool! It's about how I saved the pope."

Wheeljack couldn't allow himself to stay out of this one.

"Sideswipe, we have been over this. I was there. You didn't save the pope."

"You were there in the city, but you weren't THERE, Wheeljack. I totally saved the pope and he was all 'bless you, my son' and then he did this thing where—"

"Seriously, Sideswipe, you can tell that story a million times and I'm still not going to believe you."

"But I really did!"

Crystal saw her chance. She slipped out in the midst of the heated argument and neither Autobot saw her go. As she hurried to the far side of the base, she was so glad she had insisted on not getting a personal locator installed. How was she supposed to get any work done when anyone could find her and impede her progress?

Of course, now she was clear at the back of the Ark, near the Dinobot's lair. How was she supposed to get anything done from there? Maybe she could find something to work on back here, not that she had any tools. But maybe an inspection? Just make sure that everything was at least functional? That was a good idea. It kept her busy and, hopefully, kept her from being found for a while. Ah, blessed silence.

Too bad there still wasn't much to look at. There was the Dinobot's lair, but she herself made sure everything worked well in there, including the Dinobots themselves. The hall lights worked fine and there wasn't a lot of consuls around here to maintain. There was, however, that artillery hanger that was empty....

Crystal slowly turned her head to look at the door. It was the room she had to hide in while Ultra Magnus was visiting the base. It was the room she didn't like being in alone. Even with the door shut tight, it had the same feel of a dark, open doorway beckoning her to come inside. She stepped toward it slowly, fingers ghosting over the latch.

"What you doing?"

Crystal visibly jumped at the sound. Her fuel pump raced as she turned to the one who had addressed her.

"Oh, Slag. Hi."

The Dinobot was in root mode, looming over her with his arms crossed. He usually stayed in robot mode around her. She tended to pet his comrades when they were in dinosaur mode. He didn't like that. He didn't like her much either.

"Me Slag say what you doing!" he demanded again.

She ignored his attitude.

“You wouldn’t by any chance happen to understand Cybertronian, do you Slag?”

The Dinobot took a moment to process the question and immediately frowned.

“So what? Just cuz you know more than Slag don’t mean that–“

”Woah! Woah! I don’t know it either! I was just asking!”

It placated him a little bit, but the surly Dinobot, it seemed, would never be truly satisfied with her.

"Fine. Do what you want. Me Slag going now."

Crystal sighed as the danger passed and moved on into the caves. Now to take care of her other problem.

* * *

Red Alert raced along the Oregon back roads, engine growling his frustration. All he wanted to do was let loose and go as fast as he could, but that was against the law. He had to constantly check his speed to make sure he wasn't exceeding the state limit. Again, as he had a hundred times before, he questioned what he was doing back here on Earth.

They didn't need him, of that he was sure. They already had one security expert who was also a commanding officer. So why had he been requested to transfer? Red Alert was informed that Prowl requested him specifically, but now he was very much doubting that. Prowl was the reason he was now tearing up the countryside in such a foul mood.

There had always been an unspoken competitive nature existing between them since day one. When they had first met, Prowl already had an impressive amount of schooling and experience under his belt and was quickly rising in the Autobot ranks. Red Alert had neither of these. He did, however, have a natural talent and intelligence that won him much attention. And while Prowl was divided with both tactic and security duties, Red Alert's only specialty was security. Yet, Prowl refused to release those duties from himself fully, even though Red Alert's record had been spotless and beyond reproach. That was, until the incident last time he came to Earth.

His early warning system was unique of its kind. It had sensitivity beyond what most medics understood. And no one could have guessed that exposing it to a mixture of Earth's air composition and gravity would have damaged it so greatly. It had degraded so much so fast that it had turned him into someone else completely. A system meant to protect his comrades transformed him into a massive ball of paranoia, confusing him so much he had even turned to Starscream—of all the horrible choices—to help him on his deranged mission to save himself from his invisible demons.

That was several Earth years ago. Shortly after it happened Prowl, in his infinite wisdom, transferred him straight back to Cybertron until Red Alert's systems could be thoroughly checked and guaranteed not to go haywire again. It was the only black smudge on a perfect record, but it was a large one. One that Red Alert had never recovered from. Not in his own optics and certainly not in the optics of his comrades.

As soon as he touched down back on Earth, he could see it in the other Autobots and he was _not_ being paranoid about it. They all walked on egg shells around him, offered to help him do everything. It was if they didn't understand what happened to him was a singular glitch. It was fixed now and he was perfectly capable of doing the job he had done for millions of years just fine. He was not broken! He didn't need their help or their pity.

His engine growled his frustration and Red Alert had to check himself and slow down again. Gray slush sprayed his sides, but he didn't care. He was too angry. Prowl was being such a huge paint in the aft. Everything Red Alert did, Prowl corrected and lectured him. There wasn't a thing he could do right for the picky the second-in-command, and the situation was becoming downright insufferable. That morning, Red Alert had finally lost it and decided to fight back.

"Why did you even transfer me down here, Prowl, if I’m not up to your standard?" he snapped back.

Prowl's face remained emotionless and it was infuriating. "I wanted you back here to give you a second chance and you are wasting it."

"What are you talking about?" Red Alert was almost trembling, he was so frustrated. "I do my job flawlessly. I have done everything to _your_ specifications. There is nothing more I can do!"

"This is true," Prowl acknowledged. "You know the mechanics of this job inside and out. However, you still let the incident from the last time overshadow you. You worry too much about what everyone thinks of you. Practicality and logic should be the driving force in a security expert. Fear drives you now. The fear of what the other Autobots think of you and the distrust you have in yourself. Until you master that, you cannot do this job to your full capability."

Red Alert hadn't known what to say. It didn't make any sense to him at all. He did the job correctly, it didn't matter what motivated him. And fear was a good thing, wasn't it? It kept one alive. It kept one working hard. Prowl was just picking on him because the slagger didn't have anything else better to do. He was trying to get Red Alert to give up and admit he couldn't cut it. That was it, _Prowl wanted to get rid of him._

Red Alert almost slammed on the breaks at that thought. That thinking was too much like when his early warning system went haywire. It was startlingly easy to think that way. Red Alert quickly pushed the thought aside, fuel pump pounding.

He didn’t get to worry about it too much when something else caught his attention. About a quarter mile in the distance, a train bridge stretched over the river. Crossing it, his sensors picked up a life form: human. That was not a safe place for a human to be at all.

Red Alert pulled over to the side of the road for a better inspection of the situation. The human stood near the middle of the bridge, looking down at the ice cold river. The individual was not attempting to cross. A close up on the face showed an expression of complete despair. Warning signals went off inside the Autobot's processor. No! He couldn't let that human go through with it!

The figure on the bridge looked up in confusion when emergency sirens were heard on the train bridge.

"Halt!" a voice called from the vehicle's speaker. "Cease your activity immediately!"

The human—a young female—took one look at the car barreling toward her, screamed, and ran for the other side of the bridge.

Red Alert was right at her heels and quite surprised with the speed the human was able to accomplish.

"I didn't do anything!" she cried. "Why are you chasing me!?"

"I'm trying to help you! Stop running!"

That didn't slow her down, however. Upon reaching the other side, the human threw herself off the tracks in hopes of not being ran over. Unfortunately, that move flung her directly into a dirty snow bank.

Red Alert transformed and stepped toward the girl who looked completely disgusted and defeated in the dirty snow.

"Are you injured?" he asked carefully.

"Why are you after me?" the human wailed. Her pants were already soaked through with dirty ice water. "I wasn't doing anything to you!"

"I—I was trying to help you," Red Alert insisted.

The girl's large eyes were watering and her voice began to crack. Boy, she thought she had been having a horrible day before this. Now, being chased into a muddy snow bank by an Autobot brought it to nearly catastrophic.

"Why?" she practically bawled. "Why me?!"

Red Alert looked confused. "Aren’t you trying—weren't you going to jump off the bridge?"

All the tears stopped and she stared.

"Are you insane?! I wasn't going to kill myself!"

Anger replaced her self pity as she tried to pull herself out of the snow. "What kind of moron are you?"

She angrily tried to fight her way out which caused her to only sink deeper.

"I'm sorry," Red Alert said as he offered her his hand. "I thought you were in distress."

"My distress is none of your business!"

She grabbed the offered forefinger anyway and hefted herself up on her feet. The day was sunny, but it was still winter. Having to wear wet clothes outside would not be fun at all.

Red Alert knew all about humans and their discomfort with extreme temperatures. He transformed into car mode and opened his passenger door.

"Get in out of the cold. I can take you home."

Her anger seemed to be forgotten in the face of the rare opportunity to ride in an actual Autobot. She hopped in without argument and put on the seat belt.

"It's the least I could do for chasing you into the snow," he continued.

She breathed out. “Taking me home isn't doing me any favors. I was trying to get away from the house for a while to get some air."

Normally, Red Alert would have felt inclined to lecture one so young about being out alone on a dangerous bridge. But today, he fully understood the need to get out and away.

"Alright. Let's go driving for a bit then," he said as he turned his heater on high. "My name is Red Alert, by the way."

The girl smiled. "Sounds like a great plan. I'm Mercedes."

* * *

"There you are," Ratchet said as Crystal hurried into the medbay. "I hailed you on that new radio you claim works nearly ten minutes ago."

"Sorry," she said as she went to dig through the usual tools. "I was in the middle of something."

"Did you bring back that paint you took?"

She instantly looked guilty. "No. You said you didn't use that color for anything."

Ratchet shook his head in dismissal. He had said that.

"Nevermind then, you—are you feeling okay? You look a little nervous today. Kind of twitchy."

Crystal instantly schooled herself and put on her business face. "Nope, just fine. Let’s get to work."

"Fine. We've got tune ups today. First appointment is here."

Crystal didn't even have to look to know who it was. Everyone was on a scheduled roster so that the medical department made sure they all had a timely check up.

"Hey Ratchet," Jazz grinned while he sat on the table. "You can leave Crys alone to do it. Then we can really play doctor."

"Hey Jazz," Crystal called as she held up a large power drill. "Guess where I'm going to put this!" She revved it for effect.

Jazz actually leaned away from her.

Now Ratchet was the one grinning. Not many had the energy to keep up with Jazz's personality. But Crystal was able to match his banter blow for blow every time. He had to admit, it was quite entertaining to watch.

While the three of them were amusing each other, Perceptor was left unnoticed. In fact, it may have not been noticed he was in there in the first place. That was just the kind of presence he had. Sometimes it was a bit disconcerting. Other times, it served his purposes.

Unknown to Crystal, when she installed a personal radio, it allowed anyone in the base to know where she was within a certain distance from the signal it gave. Most Autobots didn't bother to keep tabs on her that tightly. But Perceptor wasn't most Autobots. He had found himself a new project in studying her daily behavior. It was the first time in a long time Perceptor was able to observe and document what he considered to be a new species. The only one of her kind. And the scientist got his own personal thrill of being thorough in his research.

Crystal seemed to have a fairly routine schedule. But Perceptor noticed she had been spending quite a large amount of time in one single room that day. A room he had never documented her going into before. Also, he had heard Ratchet taking note of an altered demeanor after coming in late from being in said room. This required more investigation.

His quest lead him to the empty artillery closet at the back of the base near the Dinobot caves. Perceptor first listened at the door and scanned the area to see if anyone else was in there. It appeared to be unoccupied so he reached for the handle.

"Hi Perceptor!"

The scientist jumped at the happy, loud voice. He turned to see Bluestreak's inquisitive face.

"If you're looking for Crystal, she already left."

Perceptor smiled. Primus bless Bluestreak for what he knew and what he freely shared with everyone.

"So you've seen her in here. What has she been doing?"

A shrug from the Datsun.

"Not sure. I thought she hated this room. We made her stay in here when Ultra Magnus was around. She really didn't like this room. Never wanted to be left alone. I was surprised when I saw her go in there by herself this morning."

"Intriguing," Perceptor said. "Any idea what she was doing in there?"

Bluestreak looked sheepish. "I wanted to ask, but Sunstreaker told me I 'stick my nose in her slagging business too much'. So I left her alone." He laughed a bit awkwardly as almost an apology.

"I see." Perceptor went directly to the door. He had no such compunctions about that. Science was all about being snoopy.

Inside, the room was as empty as it had always been, save for a can of paint near the wall. Perceptor flipped on the lights and a whole other world was revealed.

There was writing all over the walls in lime green paint. Fascinated by the discovery, Perceptor stepped forward to closer inspect with Bluestreak peeking behind him.

The scientist's optics roved all over the writing in confusion. The letters were from the English alphabet, but they didn't form any English words. Perceptor quickly tried to run a match for other Earth languages. No results. He then attempted to speak it out loud to see if that would help.

"Sounds kind of like Cybertronian," Bluestreak offered.

"It does indeed," Perceptor agreed. "Quite an intriguing puzzle."

* * *

Mercedes sipped her hot chocolate and then sighed in contentment. This wasn't bad at all. The car—Autobot—was cozy and warm inside and she was quite comfortable.

"Feel better?"

"Much." She grinned. "As long as you don't mind my wet butt print on your seat."

"Uh, yes. That's fine. So, do you want to tell me why someone so young is wandering around outside alone?"

An amused smile from Mercedes.

"How old do you think I am?"

"I'm not the biggest expert on the subject, but I surmised fourteen, maybe fifteen?"

"I'll be eighteen in two months."

"Really. I venture to say you don't look it at all."

She shrugged as she pulled off her snow cap. Short black hair fell over blue eyes and a pale complexion.

"That's show biz. Keep them young as long as possible."

"So you are...a celebrity then?"

Mercedes signed as she fingered her cup and gazed out the passenger window.

"Not any more."

Red Alert thought on this.

"Is that why you were looking depressed on the bridge earlier?"

To his surprise, she barked out a laugh.

"Goodness no! I'm not _that_ shallow!" She quickly hid her smile again. "It's quite the opposite, actually. My parents and my agent are pushing me to do a comeback."

"And what is it you do exactly?"

"I used to sing."

"And you don't want to do that anymore?"

"No, I do!" There was a desperate, frustrated tone in her voice. Red Alert felt himself voice that same tone several times as of lately.

"I love signing, but when I started getting popular—when the fans started getting crazy— when all the money deals came and the concerts and the appearances stacked up, that's when it all blew up.

"The money, the stress, it tore my parents apart. They got divorced and they still fight over every penny I make. Between the personal problems and all the performances, I broke down. Mentally and physically. I had to go to therapy. I had to have surgery on my larynx."

Her hand drifted to the pale scar on her throat as a frightened look crossed her face.

"And now they want to do it all again."

"There's nothing wrong with trying again," Red Alert reasoned. He sounded almost offended with the comment, as if it were personal.

"No," Mercedes corrected. " They want to do it _all_ again. I heard my mom talking with my agent. They were already planning my next break down. They were guessing how long I would last!" Her voice started rising with emotion. "Have you ever failed so badly that no matter what you do, everyone expects you to screw it up again? Do you know what that's like?"

"Yes."

"No you don't!" Her words were cracking with emotion now. "You just say that try to make me feel better! Everyone says that! You don't really know! They see what I go through, but no one really knows what it's like to feel this way!"

"I do. I really do!"

"Oh, shut up!" There were tears in her eyes now. She flung the empty cup against the dash board. "I hate people telling me they understand when they don't! It's just lies! It doesn't help! How can you possibly get it?!"

The car interior was suddenly too small. Just like her house had gotten too small. It was suffocating. She didn't want to hear any response the Autobot had for her. She needed to get out of there.

Frantically, she jerked at the door handle several times, but it was locked. Rather than have his handle ripped off, Red Alert unlocked it and the hysterical teenager stumbled out. She caught herself and turned to the car with wild eyes.

"Don't try to save me anymore!" she screamed and bolted out of the parking lot.

Red Alert did not follow. He, too, understand the need to run away from such emotion and the need to be by oneself. He just hoped she would find her way home safely.

* * *

The day was long and there was much to think about for Red Alert. Mostly about his own situation and what Prowl had said to him. But also the girl he had met on the bridge. His thoughts kept wandering back to what she had said. So much frustration and confusion in such a small body. Young humans at that age seemed to get lost so easily in that muddy gray area between being a child and an adult.

He found he wanted to talk to her again. He saw his own frustrations mirrored in her so well. He wasn't sure if there was anything they could do for each other, despite their similar circumstances, but he wanted to try again.

The first step was finding her. She said her name was Mercedes, but that wasn't very helpful for an internet search unless he was looking for German automobiles. He tried searching for her name plus 'celebrity' and found a few clues. Her full name was Mercedes Lakes-Wilkins. The world knew her as Sadie Lakes.

Once that was figured out, it was easy to locate an entertainment website with a few video clips of her.

"Teen sensation Sadie Lakes collapsed on stage today during a San Diego concert," a news anchor reported. "The young star recovered enough to perform two more songs, but then the concert was cut short in consideration of her health. It has yet to be seen if this will affect the rest of her tour. Sources say her health has been deteriorating lately and it was only a matter of time before it happened."

Red Alert checked the date of the report. More than two years ago. He found similar reports within the same time frame. Reports of the young girl going into therapy and disappearing from the spotlight without any guess as to when she would be back.

Red Alert then looked for anything about her recently. He only found one.

"First on Entertainment Today, remember her?" An old picture of Mercedes appeared next to the anchor woman’s head. "Sadie Lakes, a teen superstar nearly two years ago, ended her booming career suddenly after collapsing on stage during a concert. No one has heard from her since.

"Although recent rumors are that her doctor has given her the go ahead and she has a comeback planned, there have still not been any definite responses to what the young singer has been up to and when or if she'll really be back on the stage.

"However, one of our viewers shot this footage of Sadie screaming as she jumps out of a fire department emergency vehicle..."

The camera closed up on the red symbol decorating the car's hood.

"Yes, you saw right. That is an Autobot. Is this the beginning of a publicity stunt—"

"Hey Red! You're on TV," Sideswipe observed as he pointed at Teletrann's screen. "Who's the girl?"

"None of your business!" Red Alert snapped back.

Sideswipe gave him a judgmental look. "She doesn't look legal, Red. I'd lay off that for a few years. You know they send you to jail for that down here."

Red Alert quickly closed the video file.

"Sideswipe, really, isn't there anything helpful you can do with yourself around here?"

"Helpful? Here?" The red Autobot looked around the control room as if seeing it for the first time. "Not really."

* * *

Perceptor gathered those he could fit into the artillery closet to share in his findings. It was a little snug, but he, Optimus Prime, Prowl, Jazz and Ratchet all managed to get in there and still have a bit of turn around room.

“Crystal wrote all of this?” Jazz gawked at the paint. It meant nothing to him.

“Do you know what she was trying to do?” Prowl asked softly. His optics flickered over each group of non-words, trying to take them in.

“It took me a while to decipher it,” Perceptor explained. “But I do believe it’s ancient Cybertronian phonetically written out in English syllables. Quite poorly, but if you sound out the letters just right, you can make out little bits here and there.”

“So she’s got someone teaching her Cybertronian,” Jazz shrugged. “Other than the fact that they’re doing a horrible job of it, I don’t see a problem.”

“Don’t even look at me,” Ratchet defended. “I wasn’t teaching her. She goes and does most of this on her own.”

“This is...not good,” Optimus said. He had been quiet since then and the tone was serious.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Prowl said. “How does this...”

Optimus ran his finger under one of the lines. He said it out loud and then translated into English as he pointed to them.

“Get out. Get away from me. You don’t belong here.” He paused and then read another line. “I’ll kill you.”

A cold breeze seemed to flow into the air-tight room from nowhere and everyone fell silent.

The door opened and Crystal was extremely surprised to see her usual empty room filled with Autobots. Then her mouth tightened into a frown and she closed the door on them.

Jazz lunged to grab the handle, but it would not move.

“Hey! She locked us in! Any of you guys have access codes for this thing?”

A few moments later, Crystal strolled into Wheeljack’s lab. She gave a calm greeting to the inventor before she sat herself at a table and took a few tools to the circuitry in her arm. Wheeljack hardly noticed she was removing her personal radio.

Two or three minutes passed before several Autobots came into the room. Wheeljack finally managed to get his attention away from his current project. Crystal, however, didn’t look up at their entrance.

“Oh, don’t do that, Crystal,” Ratchet complained when he saw what she was doing. “You just installed that radio.”

“It tells you guys where I am,” Crystal growled. “You're all too nosy.”

“And you’re too smart for your own slagging good,” Ratchet shot back as he sat at the table next to her. “Give me that screwdriver.”

She leaned possessively away from him. “No, I’ve got it.”

“Don’t be paranoid! I’m not going to do anything to you!”

“Yeah, you just like you don't go snooping around behind my back instead of asking me to my face.”

Optimus Prime placed an authoritative hand on the table and Crystal’s indignation disappeared under his shadow.

“I am asking you to your face, do you know what you wrote on those walls? Do you know what it means?”

She shook her head, optics wide.

“Where did you hear it?”

“In the artillery closet.” She didn’t get a chance to think about changing her answer before it came out. Her upbringing was to be blamed for that. Her military father always expected a straight, honest answer.

“Who said it to you?” Optimus continued.

“No one.”

“So you heard an Autobot say it to someone else?”

Crystal opened her mouth and then closed it again.

“Not...exactly...”

“Wait,” Jazz jumped in. “So you heard it in the closet, but no one was there?”

Crystal remained silent.

Ratchet frowned. “Perhaps you should let Perceptor and I run a diagnostic—”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Crystal jumped from her chair, slamming her palms flat on the table. “All of you need to mind your own damn business!”

She stalked through them to flee the room and they all stepped aside– save one. The last one by the door, Prowl grabbed her wrist and held it up between them. His grip was firm and unmoving as a statue. In it, Crystal’s hand twitched in a nervous fashion. He looked at it and she willed her fingers still.

“Please let go, Prowl,” she said in the calmest, steadiest voice she could muster.

He could crush her wrist in that grip easily if he wanted to. Any of them could. He looked like he wanted to in his frustration. She could feel his hand adjusting his strength so he wouldn’t hurt her, but could still hold her if she tried to get away. She could see from his stern expression the wheels turning in his head. Prowl had an almost desperate passion for answers, and this was one he greatly wanted. But Crystal was not in the mood to give him that satisfaction. Instead, she stared him down and waited for her earlier request to be granted.

It took more than a minute of the two eyeing each other, but when it became obvious Crystal would neither move nor speak, Prowl relinquished his hold. Crystal threw one more glance at them all, then left.

* * *

Red Alert was sure he wanted to do this, but he wasn’t sure how. He found her address, a large gated house with a guard. He didn’t know if he would be allowed in or not. Of course he could always just transform and step over the fence, but that would hardly be proper. He needed to settle on a direct approach and then if that didn’t work, he would figure out something else.

He was, however, unprepared for the guard to wave him in on sight. That was odd. Could it be because he was an Autobot, or had his arrival been expected? He found his answer when he drove up to the house and Mercedes herself stood on the front steps with the same boots and winter cap she had been wearing the day before She had a curiously large case with her this time.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she informed him.

“How did you know I was coming?”

“I didn’t. I just hoped that a guy who would chase someone off a bridge would come back again to check on me.”

“...Oh...” was the witty response.

Mercedes has already opened the passenger-side door and set her case in the back seat.

“What are you doing?” Red Alert demanded. “What is that?”

“That’s my guitar and _we_ are going out to have some fun.” She closed the door and put on her seat belt. “Think of it as a second chance at a first impression.”

Red Alert wasn’t sure what to say. He had expected maybe a short talk with the girl, not a full day of activities. He had other things to do. Important things. Yet, he drove away with his passenger nonetheless.

Instead of going into town, Mercedes directed him up higher among the wooded hills. They ended up on a logging road rest stop overlooking a spectacular view of trees and the ocean far in the distance.

It was another sunny day. Mercedes sat herself on Red Alert’s hood, plunking away on her guitar. She strummed a few tunes as she tried a few lyrics.

“You’re going to sing again, then?” Red Alert asked. He was anxious to get the conversation going so it would be over.

“Thinking about it,” she replied after a while. “Every time I think I might be done, I turn on the TV and see these horrible role models young girls have these days. Lindsay Lohan, the Olsen twins– they started out sweet, but now they’re doing drugs and skanking it up everywhere. Then there’s this Miley Cyrus. I had hopes for her, but now she’s dating underwear models and dancing on stripper poles. It worries me.”

Red Alert didn’t say anything. He had no idea what she was talking about.

“I just want to give young girls something positive to aspire to, you know? Without the drugs and the promiscuity.” She strummed a bit more, searching for a melody that seemed to elude her. “I just need to find a song worth coming back with.”

“So you need to write a song,” Red Alert mused. He knew next to nothing about Earth music, but he was still trying to participate in the conversation. “What kind of a song?”

“Mmmm...I’m thinking maybe a love song. I think the quality has really gone down over the generations. There’s no heart, no eloquence to the words any more. We’ve gone from “I can’t stop falling in love” to “Forever yours, Faithfully” to...” she paused and distaste took over her tone. “My life would suck without you.”

Red Alert couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice. “So you are going to write a great love song for your time? Have you ever been in love?”

“Well, no,” Mercedes admitted. “Not for real. But I have an idea how it goes.”

“I see.”

She smiled. “Trust me, every little girl does.”

She leaned back on his windshield and squinted at the sunny sky as she continued to play her music.

“So tell me your story, Red Alert. You said yesterday you understood me and my wild, teenage drama.”

“I was just trying to say that I understand what it’s like to screw up something and then have everyone expect you to do it again. That’s all.”

The tune had changed, but Mercedes kept playing. “How so?”

“My early warning sensors are more advanced than any other Autobot’s, but they weren’t built for Earth’s oxygen rich atmosphere. The first time I came down here, they began to break down and malfunction. I fell into a void of paranoia and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t trust any of my friends or fellow Autobots. The worst part was no one understood that I was actually malfunctioning until it was over.

“Eventually, it got so bad I thought the very walls were coming after me. I fled the base and had the horrible luck of running into a very silver tongued Decepticon who convinced me I needed to get the Autobots before they got me. I stupidly let him into the base and he did quite a bit of damage and nearly killed the ones I was supposed to be protecting.”

By now, Mercedes had stopped playing and it was silent all around them.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But you’re better now, right?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Red Alert said bitterly. “Everyone looks at me—treats me—like I’m forever broken. Even my friends, the ones who know me best, treat me like I’m...unstable. Like I’m going to break any minute. They think they’re being supportive, but it just makes me feel like–”

“Like you can’t break out of that shell they built around you,” Mercedes finished. “Like they believe it so much, you can’t change it no matter how much you try.”

They fell silent for a moment.

There was a humming in Mercedes’ pocket. She pulled out her cell and check the number with a sigh.

“Hey, Mom.” Pause. “I went out! Just out...on the roads.” Her voice rose in agitation. “No, no Spanish, Mom. Slow down, I can’t understand– Mom. Mom. Mom? Mom. Mom, listen. Mom!”

“Mercedes, get in,” Red Alert suddenly shouted at her. “Turn off the phone! Quickly!” He opened his passenger door.

“Mom, I gotta go,” Mercedes said hastily. The Autobot’s tone left no room for argument. She turned off the phone and slid to the ground. “What’s going on?”

“Decepticon jets are approaching. We need to get out of the open.”

She looked skyward. “I don’t hear them coming.”

“That’s my early warning sensors,” Red Alert explained as the human got in. “It will give us a head start, but they’re fast. We need to get out of here.”

They started down the road and there was an urgent tone to the Autobot's engine as they went. Mercedes wasn't sure what the fuss was about. There didn't seem to be Decepticons anywhere in the area.

"I think we're okay. I don't see anything," she told him.

"No," Red Alert insisted. "You don't understand. There's one of them that could catch us no matter—"

The sky seemed to crack open in a loud snap and it spit out something sleek and dark from nowhere. The second he saw him, Red Alert had already relayed a distress signal to the Ark. Hopefully support would arrive in time.

Mercedes watched with wide eyes as the black jet above them circled around and then unfolded to land in in their path, heavy enough to shake the ground and crack the pavement.

Red Alert slammed on his breaks mere inches from hitting Skywarp. If Mercedes hadn't been wearing her seat belt, she probably would have been thrown from the car.

"Trying to get away, Autobot?" Skywarp grinned wolfishly at him.

The Autobot spun his wheels in reverse and took off backwards down the road as fast as he could. In the passenger seat, Mercedes panicked as she glanced from front to back window.

"How can you drive like that? Omigod we're gonna crash!"

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing," Red Alert said. He fought to keep the strain out of his voice, but he was praying to Primus that he would actually know what to do.

Skywarp transformed and gave chase. Red Alert was still driving backwards as fast as he could up the mountain trail. When the Decepticon caught up to him, he slammed on his breaks again, throwing Mercedes back into her seat, and then lurched forward, now speeding down the mountain path.

Any aircraft needs room and time to circle around. Even one that can warp. But Skywarp had his own tricks. He wasn't always the brightest energon cube in the bundle, but he had an uncanny instinct for finding the fast way of doing things. The second Skywarp knew he had to turn around he slowed himself, transformed into root mode, rotated around and then took off after them in jet mode again.

"He's coming back!" Mercedes cried as she spied him out the rear window.

"He's not warping closer," Red Alert observed as he drove faster down to the base of the mountain. "He just wants some sport chasing us."

That meant Skywarp didn't care if he was wasting time, which meant he wasn't on any mission. That was a good sign. Idle, bored seekers were easier to handle than desperate, time pressed seekers worrying about the consequences of failing their leader. But that may have been the only thing going in Red Alert's favor. They raced down toward a large lake that bled into the ocean. Over the water flew Starscream.

Of all the faces he would be seeing on Earth again, this was the one Red Alert dreaded the most. He already knew what it would look like: full of supremacy and smugness. Starscream would always have that victory over him. Starscream, of all Decepticons, had a piece of him no one could ever recover. But Red Alert was determined that this Decepticon would have nothing else to hold over his head. Never again. He sped faster down the road. The Autobot rescue team had not yet arrived. He was all alone.

Starscream was closing in fast, as was Skywarp behind him. Soon Red Alert would be trapped between the seekers and the body of water. He had to think of something. There was a small boathouse on the bank of the lake. He sped up to it and opened his passenger door.

"Get in and hide! Don't come out until I tell you to."

Mercedes all but flew towards the safety of the simple shack, guitar case in hand. Once his interior was empty, Red Alert raced away from the boathouse. Inside, Mercedes peered out a dirty window to watch.

Skywarp landed just as Red Alert transformed into root mode near the water's edge. Seconds later, the grinning form of Starscream touched down on the other side, boxing him in between the two seekers and the lake.

"Well, well. Red Alert," Starscream's tone oozed superiority. "It has been a long time. I'm surprised the Autobots allowed a traitor like you to remain among them."

Red Alert narrowed his optics, but did not give Starscream the satisfaction of a response. Responding would raise his emotional level. He needed to stay calm to win this.

"What? Nothing to say to me?" He continued in a mocking tone. "I was your friend when all your comrades turned against you."

"You're an opportunistic rat!" Red Alert spat back.

Starscream just grinned wider. "They say opportunities knock only once. You have to grab it while you can. It certainly isn't my fault your fellow Autobots would rather chase you out of your own base than help you with your condition."

Red Alert growled. All his focus was on Starscream. Unfortunately, Skywarp was also all about opportunity. The moment Red Alert seem to forget he was there, he pounced. Any other Autobot would have been taken completely by surprise with a rear attack by a warping Decepticon. But Red Alert had something most Autobots didn't have, his early warning system.

He could feel that rift where the warp came in right before Skywarp appeared and cleanly dodged the fist flying for his head. Skywarp stood there, a bit stunned while Starscream managed to look amused.

"Only such a paranoid fool would see that coming. I suppose that defect of yours is good for something."

Anger was rising now. Skywarp had disappeared to re appear again and take another swipe, but Red Alert was already dodging as he yelled back at Starscream.

"I am NOT paranoid! And I'm not broken! You can think what you want—all of you can—but it's not true!"

By now, Skywarp had increased his determination to land a blow. He materialized in and out faster, trying to get the drop on the Autobot. Red Alert could see each attack coming, but Skywarp was getting too close. The Autobot hopped back further and began dashing around to make it hard for Skywarp to warp close enough to get a good shot.

Starscream stayed back to watch the deadly dance as Red Alert twisted and dodged every swing before it came. He was almost jealous of the Autobot's surprising finesse. Almost.

"I'm afraid, Red Alert, that it's out of your control," the seeker called to him. "The Autobots will always look at you differently now. There's nothing you can do about it."

"Arg! Stand still!" Skywarp barked as he warped again.

"Maybe," Red Alert said as he dodged another swing and dashed in the opposite direction, only to dash again before Skywarp could appear in front of him. "Or maybe I should look at myself differently first." He hopped to the side, dodged, dashed, and slowly began bringing the fight closer to Starscream who was really enjoying the show.

"You and the Autobots may have forgotten who I was, but I forgot something about myself as well."

Starscream smirked. "Like what?"

Red Alert dodged and then suddenly charged Starscream. The seeker braced for an attack, but the smaller Autobot slid cleanly between Starscream's legs. Before he could compute what was going on, Skywarp materialized into him. So close that both seeker's physical structures attempted to occupy the same space and merged, cockpit to cockpit. Both looked on in horror at having to be so close to the other.

"Everyone forgets," Red Alert told him. "I'm smarter than them. And I'm smarter than you."

It was at that moment, Red Alert realized that maybe one Autobot had not forgotten this. The one that pushed him the hardest. He kicked Starscream in the back and both seekers squawked and flailed as they fell over, Skywarp crushed on the bottom and trying to keep their faces from touching each other.

Red Alert ignored the comical sight and turned his head toward the road. "Better late than never, I suppose," he said to himself as two brightly colored Lamborghinis raced down the mountain, kicking up dust over a deep red van and a police car.

Sideswipe swerved right up to the water's edge while Sunstreaker stayed pragmatically behind, keeping his tires away from the mud. Sideswipe transformed and barked in laughter at the conjoined seekers struggling to get off each other.

"Ooh la la! Are we interrupting something?"

“Nice job, Red,” Sunstreaker said. “I guess you managed not to fritz out this time.”

Red Alert instantly took offense. “What do you mean this time?! I don’t fritz out!”

"Get off! Getoffgetoffgetoff!" Starscream floundered and squawked like a cat with its tail caught.

Skywarp fought against him, focused on keeping his face away. This was closer than he ever wanted another male to be to him and his spark just wanted to slither out of its chamber. Seeing that they were thoroughly outnumbered, beaten, and humiliated, Skywarp grabbed Starscream and both of them disappeared.

With the threat gone, Red Alert walked over to the boathouse. Mercedes flew out, fists pumping the air.

"Red Alert! You were awesome!"

As she danced around him, Prowl approached and Red Alert's smile disappeared.

Prowl looked down at the under age human girl in his charge and Red Alert could already hear the lecture he was going to get.

"Red Alert," Prowl began. "I don't think—"

"I don't really give two shots what you think, Prowl," Red Alert shot back.

Then he promptly transformed into vehicle mode and drove away with Mercedes and her guitar inside. Prowl watched, blank expression until he was out of sight. Then the corners of his mouth ticked up.

"Hell'r you smilin' about?" Ironhide demanded when he saw Prowl's expression. "Y'all happy cuz yer're turnin' him inta one of yer clones so he can take over for you?"

Prowl clapped him on the shoulder. That was more or less the plan and Ironhide knew it. Red Alert was meant to be Prowl's replacement on Earth when they moved back to Cybertron. And right now, Prowl couldn't have felt more comfortable about that choice.

* * *

Crystal sat in her room, holding her wrist and staring at her hand. Her fingers twitched slightly. They used to not do that before. She didn't know why they were doing it now. It seemed to get worse when her stress levels rose. If she concentrated, she could get it to stop, but it made her wonder if this was a bad sign. Humans humans could get twitchy when they were under a lot of stress. But then again, when she was human, she wasn't very twitchy. Maybe she would watch it a little longer. Maybe it was nothing.

There was a knock on the door and she rose to answer it. She half expected it to be some sort of talk relating to what happened earlier that day. But the group of faces she saw were not who she was expecting.

"Hi!" Bluestreak chirped happily. Behind him was Wheeljack and...Smokescreen?

She stared at them, unable to fathom what they could possibly want.

"What—"

"For you." Smokescreen reached around Bluestreak and handed her a data pad with an extensive report on it.

Crystal looked at it blankly. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be seeing.

"It says the back part of the Ark was salvaged from a different ship," Smokescreen informed her. "A ship that was attacked by Decepticons. One of which died in that room."

Crystal stared at the report for a while, the cogs in her head turning. "And this means..."

"We're going to do some experiments!" Wheeljack announced, optics twinkling. For a robot without a face, he always managed to be expressive and right now he was doing his "Oh boy, SCIENCE!" face.

“Come on,” Bluestreak urged, taking her hand. “We’ll be there with you. Let’s go find out what it is.”

She nodded blankly and that was enough permission to pull her out of the room and down toward the back of the ship. She wandered behind them, staring at Bluestreak's back. How did they know about it? Bluestreak knew she had been in the artillery closet. Wheeljack was there when the other Autobots confronted her in his lab. Apparently they were more tight knit than she thought.

Wheeljack opened the door of the desired room and eagerly stepped inside first, equipment in his arms. Crystal followed close behind.

Bluestreak lingered.

"Tell the truth, Smokescreen. We're only doing this now because Prowl is out responding to that SOS, aren't we?"

"Yes, but not for our benefit. Think of it as...sparing Prowl the extra stress. You know this isn't his kind of thing."

Bluestreak consented. Smokescreen had a talent for bending logic to what suited him and it made sense here. He followed the blue Datsun inside.

Smokescreen made a noise of interest when he finally got a view at the walls himself. "Quite the display. You do this all yourself, kid?"

"You would just write it down as you heard it?" Wheeljack added.

Crystal shrugged. "As best I could, anyway. I don't understand Cybertronian. I wasn't sure if I was hearing it correctly. It's always shouting. Angry. Fast. I have a hard time getting anything out of it."

She couldn't see, but behind her, Bluestreak looked worried.

Smokescreen looked even more intrigued. "Can you hear it right now?"

Crystal looked around the room as if expecting to see or sense something. "Not right now. I've never heard it when others were in here with me."

She jumped a bit when Bluestreak put his hands on her shoulders.

"So you just...stayed in here by yourself and listened to that?" he asked softly.

"I was curious. It didn't hurt me, just startled me the first time. It's just noise."

"We'll see if we can find out exactly what it is," Wheeljack announced as he organized the devices he brought on a shelf. "If Smokescreen's theory is correct. If there really is some sort of life essence trapped in here, I should be able to pick it up."

"Is that normal?" Crystal wondered. "Hauntings with your kind?"

"Hardly documented, but not unheard of. I have a device here that's supposed to pick up spark energy. We'll see if it finds anything."

He had some kind of short, fishing pole looking device with a screen in his hands and he began to slowly wave it around.

Bluestreak still had his hands on Crystal's shoulders, she noticed, as Wheeljack wandered the room. He looked around as if waiting for something to jump out at them. She patted his hand. He was such a sweet Autobot. She felt bad she had ever tried to avoid him.

Then there was Smokescreen across the way who was, for the first time, not smirking at her or being a general jerk. He was maintaining his own space, leaning against the wall and watching Wheeljack work. He seemed generally interested with what was going on. Further more, he didn't seem to have any air of ulterior motive about him for once. Perhaps it was just his nature as an underground information specialist. He had dug up the files and he just wanted to know.

"So," Crystal spoke up to break the silence. "I thought you guys technically 'die' when your spark goes out. So why would you be looking for a spark signature?"

"To see if there's one to pick up," Wheeljack responded simply. "You do have a point, but a good scientist checks all the possibilities."

Crystal nodded and then thought for a moment. "So if the spark goes out...what's left of you? I mean, do you just disappear or do you go to, like, heaven or something?"

"The Matrix," Bluestreak said helpfully. "All sparks go to the Matrix after we go offline."

"But, you die when the spark is destroyed, don't you? So what is left to go there?"

Wheeljack and Bluestreak had to pause to try and find the words.

It was Smokescreen who actually stepped up. "Well, there's the spark and then there's the _spark_. It's just like humans. There's that part of you that breathes and radiates life in your body and then there's that part of you that doesn't need the body after it's dead. Same with us."

She rolled that over in her head. "So this Matrix, does everyone get to go there?"

"Jeeze you're full of questions," Smokescreen complained, sounding a bit more impatient. "Of course everyone goes there."

"Even Decepticons?"

“Of course not!” Bluestreak said. “It’s the Autobot Matrix.”

“Don’t be stupid Blue, yes they do,” Smokescreen insisted.

Bluestreak's optics widened and he looked at Wheeljack for support. The inventor shrugged. Legend around the Matrix was so old it blurred past a certain point, even in Cybertron's most accurate records.

"We all go there," Smokescreen insisted. "Decepticons are just a different faction, they're not separate from us. Before the war there was no such thing as Decepticons or Autobots and we all still went to the Matrix. Primus, use your processor, Bluestreak."

Bluestreak looked down, properly chastised.

Crystal was not happy about that at all. “You know what? You’re an ass. I don’t care what you know or whose brother you are, you don’t get the right to treat others that way.” She grabbed Bluestreak’s hand and pulled him to the door. “You can do this with Wheeljack on your own. That is, if he can stand you. Jerk.”

Smokescreen actually cringed when she slammed the door shut behind her.

“You are kind of a jerk,” Wheeljack agreed.

Smokescreen sighed as his door panels wilted a bit. “I know,” he lamented.

* * *

"Ugh! He drives me nuts!" Crystal announced as she stomped down the hall. "Why do you let him talk to you that way, Bluestreak? It's not your fault he's got brother issues."

He shrugged a little. "Smokescreen was probably right," he offered.

"It doesn't matter. Just because you think you know everything doesn't give you license to be a jackass."

"Oh, but he really does know," Bluestreak insisted with a bit of respect in his voice. "Smokescreen knows a lot of things. He's _old_."

Crystal made a face of disbelief. "He's not that old."

"No, he is!" his tone lowered and he leaned in as if to convey a deep secret. "He even knew his creator. Like, for a long time. Very few bots can say that."

"He doesn't look it. Are you sure? He can't be older than Ironhide, can he?"

"Way older. Autobot's honor."

Crystal still didn't look convinced. "How is it that he looks so young? He doesn't even look older than Prowl. Does he get, you know, like his face done or something?"

Bluestreak laughed. He obviously got some amusing mental picture from the question. He scratched at his cheek as he tried to come up with an answer she could understand.

"Well, you know, we're machines right? We don't show age like humans do. Our parts get old, our paint can flake, but that's easy to repair. We do age, but we age differently, each one of us."

Crystal didn't look like she was following. Bluestreak tried again.

"It's like...it's not time that ages us, right? It's more like the things that happen to us. Say two bots were built at the same time but one works in archives and one becomes a soldier. Chances are the soldier is going to age faster despite the same amount of time passing for both from what he's seen and what's happened to him."

"So you're saying that Smokescreen has, what, been a librarian his whole life?"

"Uh, not exactly. More like...sometimes you see something or something happens to you that keeps you young."

"Like what?" Crystal asked, intrigued.

Bluestreak smiled. "I really don't know."

* * *

**ONE MONTH LATER**

"Hello, I'm JayAnne Harper for Entertainment Today live at the much anticipated Sadie Lakes comeback concert. This will be the first stop of her new tour and wow, what a place to start! For the first time ever in music history, this concert is being held at Mount Saint Hilary, right outside the Autobot base. This is young artist is enjoying quite a unique collection of attendees, as well a small crowd of her most faithful fans.

"This is starting out to be the best comeback tour any artist could hope for and we still have yet to hear her brand new song Sadie has written herself for this concert. It is turning out to be quite an event!"

* * *

It had been Red Alert's idea. Even Mercedes was surprised, but delighted with the proposition. She had taken to the Autobots quite well. She adored Hound, especially his alt mode. She had already made him promise to take her camping when the snow melted.

Jazz found her cute in a novel sort of way. Though he wasn't much into the bubble gum pop she usually sang. She found him a bit out of date herself, but extremely entertaining. She never found out about the human turned robot that lived deep in the Ark. Very few ever did.

But Red Alert was clearly her favorite. After seeing his fight, she had developed a bit of hero worship for him. The concert only helped to enforce those feelings.

Red Alert had overseen all security measures with utmost confidence as a human crew came in to construct a stage. An area was set aside for a manageable crowd and any Autobots who wanted to attend could do so without the two groups being a danger or nuisance to each other.

Bumblebee decided to park _in_ the crowd for the concert. Red Alert said he would not be held responsible for any damages incurred. Prowl agreed.

The concert had gone on swimmingly. Young girls screamed and cheered and spilled their sodas happily. The lights and equipment worked without complications and Mercedes was glowing with life and energy on stage. She played that crowd like she always belonged there.

Her first few songs were all old hits from previous years. Then she stopped for a breather and to address the crowd.

"Hey everyone, thanks for coming out to see me. It's been really great singing my old songs again. I want to take a quick moment to thank the Autobots for having me out here. It really means a lot to me."

Teenage girls shouted and cheered again. Several were crawling all over Bumblebee and even poking their heads outside his windows.

Mercedes laughed into the mic. "Looks like everyone is having a great time. I really appreciate all the support you've shown me tonight. Everyone ready to hear my new song?"

More excited screaming that made a few Autobots in the back wince from the pitch.

Mercedes removed her guitar and a stage hand took it f her.

"This song I wrote for a good friend of mine who taught me no matter what happens, no matter what people think of you, always believe in yourself. This song is called "Broken" and this is for you, Red Alert."

There were a few more cheers as Mercedes walked to the side of the stage where a light fell on the piano that had not been used the entire concert.

In the back, Red Alert's optics widened. He was watching the concert merely out of courtesy and to keep an eye on things. He hadn't expected this.

The crowd fell silent. Mercedes began to play, a slow, bittersweet tune. Much different than the fun, bubbly songs she had sung before. Her voice flowed into the mic with a different kind of beauty and maturity.

What have I done now?  
How did it end up this way?  
You look at me like you don't know me any more.  
You twist your world around me.  
Why were you the one who found me  
When I was at my darkest on the floor?

And you won't ever forget.

Broken.  
You look at me like I'm broken.  
Don't you know how I feel?  
This illusion isn't real  
I'm stronger than you see  
And you don't know me.

I can't change what happened.  
I love you, but you don't understand.  
When I see me through your eyes I wish you saw more.  
I can't break this mask you gave me  
And I don't need it to save me.  
I'm no different from who I was before.

But I can't make you forget.

Broken  
Why do you look at me like I'm broken?  
There's nothing here to fix.  
But your illusion of me sticks.  
I'm stronger than you see.  
I won't let it change me.

Red Alert was mesmerized by the performance. Something in his spark ached at the words that so clearly described feelings he had been wrestling with for so long. So that was what music was for. He was so involved in the performance, he jumped when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. It was Optimus Prime.

“You seemed to have had quite an influence on her,” he said.

Red Alert smiled. “I think it was mutual.”

When the song ended, the audience fell silent as the lights went off. Then the audience exploded with claps and cheers greater than before as Mercedes stood and bowed. Red Alert clapped as well.

Mercedes was beaming on stage. The song was a hit. The concert was a success.

* * *

When it was all over, Mercedes was driven home by her favorite escort. Her mother had attended the concert, but Mercedes insisted she could head home while she was still signing autographs. The young singer would get home on her own just fine.

Now it was very late and the back roads leading away from the Ark were dark, save Red Alert’s headlights as he drove for the city. Mercedes was curled up in his back seat, exhausted, but happy.

“Uh, you did really good tonight, Mercedes,” Red Alert said to her. “I’ve never actually seen a concert before, but I thought it was very good.”

The teenager shifted in the back. “Mm...thanks,” she muttered. Her voice was raspy from being used all night. She decided she liked laying the back seat. It felt comfortable and safe. She was drifting off.

“And the song, Mercedes, I really...thank you.”

She smiled sleepily and sighed. “Love you...” she mumbled before she fell into a well deserved sleep.

**Close File #011: Broken – Red Alert**


	13. Mismatched and Gentle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh guys, I am so sorry I have been neglecting you. And with the quarantine, you need something new to read. I'll try to get this story wrapped up soon. Thanks for being so patient!

Author's Notes: Most of you probably will catch on or not even notice, but the few of you who may get confused, the last chapter and this one kind of overlap each other. Broken happens the end of January/beginning of February and then skips to March. This one goes back to February.

**The Autobot Files**

**File #012 - Mismatched**

It was out of town. The ritzy part of out of town where large mansions built with a lot of money and little practicality scattered over the beautiful mountainside. The largest of them all sat on top and owned the area for several miles. The house was enormous. It appeared more like a convention center than a home. It had tall doors and large, open spaces. It seemed to be built for a human 12 feet tall. Or a 12 foot tall robot.

Within, as strange as it was, there was actually such a thing within the house. Currently, said robot was lounging in a massive living room with high ceilings. The extremely large bean bag-type chair made especially for him accommodated his build quite nicely and several roaring fire places helped to keep the spacious room toasty during the winter.

Curled up on the robot's chest was a woman with rusty brown curls and a shapely figure. She sighed in contentment against the warm, metal body while the red Autobot himself just sat there.

"This is nice, isn't it, Powerglide?" Astoria said happily.

"Yeah, sure," came a slightly flat response. "It's okay, I guess."

Astoria sat up. "Okay? You guess? Well aren't you just the sweet talker today."

"Hey! I'm here, aren't I?" the red Autobot demanded. "I came on your stupid Earth...love holiday thing like you wanted. I mean, like you demanded to my commanding officer. Thanks a lot."

"I got you the day off! Why are you complaining? I'm soooo sorry I gave you some time to sit and relax. My bad!"

"You need to stop poking your nose in my business, woman! I could have gotten it off myself. I don't need your help to do every little thing."

Astoria put her hands on her hips. "I don't have to take this kind of crap. I was married once, you know."

Powerglide could have sat up himself and toppled her right off him, but he didn't.

"Yeah, I know. You've only told me about a dozen times."

When Powerglide met Astoria Carlton-Ritz, she had still been quite young. They had driven each other nuts then and it really hadn't changed all that much. Astoria was about thirty now. Powerglide wasn't really sure what that meant. He always had trouble getting the hang of Earth time. As near as he could tell, it still wasn't even half of a human's expected life span. But someone had told him humans started calming down around this time.

Apparently, Astoria hadn't gotten the memo. She was still as active and fiery as ever. And she had been married to...some human guy at one point. Astoria always tried to explain to Powerglide who he was and what their relationship was like and why it was over now. But Powerglide usually tuned it out. He didn't much care about some guy, nor did he understand her need to talk about him when her relationship was obviously over.

He understood in some way it was her attempt to check to see how much he cared and to raise some jealousy in him. But Powerglide just couldn't do it. There was no jealousy toward a male of a completely different species. Especially one that was the same species as Astoria. It wasn't like _he_ could ever marry her. He was hardly there as it was. His last assignment to Cybertron had been over five years. It just didn't make sense to him to either worry or pine after something he could not do. Powerglide just didn't think like that.

But that didn't mean he did not care. He had, after all, shown up. He was there and he was taking this whole holiday thing patiently and he was _trying_ not to start anything with her. But even Astoria herself had to admit, the arguments were part of the fun. She could say whatever she wanted to him and it was inconsequential. Powerglide always shot his own thoughts right back. Both opinions were accepted and that was that. Easy. Free.

Neither had any illusions of what their future held with the other. Powerglide would never be able to play any type of acceptable male role in a human relationship and Astoria's life was only a mere blink in time compared to Powerglide's infinitely long life span. They were mismatched at best. Odd. Unnatural. But somehow, balanced. And quite content with the way it was. So it was the way it remained.

"So did you get me anything for Valentine's Day?" Astoria asked as she settled back down on Powerglide's chest.

"No," came the instant response.

Her head shot up again. "Well why not? Gosh! You're so lazy! You know when I go out, I have plenty of good looking men who line up to buy me presents!"

"Well what the slag do you expect from me? If it's so important to you, get one of your human boy toys to waltz into a store and put down some cash. I'm trying to do my job here."

Instead of exploding at him, Astoria climbed further up and put her arms around his thick neck. There was always a 50-50 chance she would do either.

"Take me flying later?" she asked after she kissed the side of his face mask.

Powerglide gently rested his fingers over the small body.

"You know I would do that for you anytime."

**Close File #012 Mismatched - Powerglide**

* * *

**File #013 - Gentle**

"Hey. Hey Crystal. I got something for you."

Crystal glanced out from under the table to see a pair of large gray feet.

"In a minute, Bluestreak. I'm almost done."

She was currently fixing the gears on the rotating table in the med bay. They were handy to have when there was a wound that needed fluid flow redirected or an easier angle to help with a repair. The only rotating table the Ark hadn't been working for several weeks. Crystal decided to put a stop to that today.

Once satisfied with her job, she slid out from under it and went to wash the grease from her hands. Bluestreak waited patiently, which Crystal understood was hard for him. So she was happy to finally give him her time and attention.

"Alright. Now, what can I do for you?"

"For you!" He proudly thrust a thin object in her face.

Crystal took it, looking it over curiously. "It's a metal...rose?"

Bluestreak beamed. "I made it for you in Wheeljack's workshop. Happy Valentine's Day!"

Crystal just stared at it at first, but then her mouth twisted up into a sad sort of pout. Bluestreak wasn't sure what that expression meant. He had never seen it before.

"Did I...do it wrong?" he wondered. "That's what you do on February 14th, right? You give presents?"

It was barely February 14th, being that it was about 2 o'clock in the morning. Autobots didn't run on solar Earth time cycles like humans did. Having lived with them for three months now and hardly ever going outside, Crystal was keeping Autobot work hours herself.

"No, this is fine, Bluestreak. You did it right. It's just....I've never had anyone give me a valentine before."

His optics grew bigger. "Really?!"

"Uh! Not that it's a big deal to me, really!" Crystal insisted when she saw the look of sadness on his face. "It's a silly thing people do anyway. But thank you, this is really nice. I'll have to put this up in my room."

She hugged him and Bluestreak instantly brightened again.

"You're welcome! Well, I have to get going now. I have a shift. But I'm glad you like it. I'll see you later, okay?"

Crystal waved him off and then looked down at her present again. It wasn't flawless, but it was still quite good. She wondered how long he had been working at it. In truth, the entire holiday had slipped her mind. She hardly knew what the current date was anymore. Lately her days had been religiously consisting of work and sleep, refueling and little else. But this made her stop and look around. When she didn't know what day it was—not even what _holiday_ it was—maybe it was time to take a break.

She promised herself not to get engrossed with any other projects and just take a moment. So instead of starting something new, Crystal wandered down to the break room. It was the main place to get energon. Usually she just grabbed it and took it with her. But this time, she sat herself at a table and once again looked at her present.

Crystal had meant to put the rose away first, but she wanted to keep it with her a little while longer. It felt like if she parted with it, she would forget what she was trying to do and slip back into her drone-like state.

"What'cha got there, kid? You make that?" Trailbreaker asked as he sat across from her with his own energon.

"Uh, no. Bluestreak made it for me." She held it up so Trailbreaker could see it. "He said it was for Valentine's day."

"Ah. Ol' V-Day back again, uh? The year goes by so fast."

Crystal shrugged. Her last Valentine's Day, she didn't even remember what she had done. Certainly nothing with anyone special. Back then, she never would have guessed that would have been her last. Her very last chance to find someone to spend it with. Her years as a young, human adult suddenly felt squandered.

"Don't go around announcing the holiday, okay?" Trailbreaker informed her. "You might get a few of the guys around here missing their femmes."

She nodded automatically and then balked. "Yeah—wait. Their what?"

"You know, their....what do you say down here... significant other?"

"You mean like girlfriends? Like they have girls here on Earth?" A mental image of alien cars picking up human women filled her head. Crystal wasn't sure how she felt about that being a normal practice for Autobots.

"Yes. No! No, no, no. Not like that. I meant the female Autobots. But all of them are on Cybertron."

Crystal stared at him for several seconds. "They make females of you?" she said flatly.

Now Trailbreaker was confused. "Of me?" He pointed to himself.

"What in the name of Primus are you two talking about?" Ironhide demanded as he stood over them. He had only caught bits of the tail end, but it hardly sounded appropriate to him.

"Here," Trailbreaker offered. "Ironhide has a femme."

Crystal gawked at him. “Really?”

“Sure he does! She’s one feisty spitfire, too!” Trailbreaker laughed. “Even Optimus Prime has Elita-One. I’m sure he misses her, too.”

“Optimus does?” Crystal repeated, her optics wide.

Trailbreaker patted an empty chair as invitation for Ironhide to sit. "Tell Crystal about Chromia."

Ironhide sat down, looking a bit confused at the sudden request. "Chromia? What for?"

Trailbreaker rested his chin on his palm, amused. "I don't think Crystal expected there to be female Autotobts. She looks a bit lost."

Ironhide's expression clearly showed how strange he thought it was that she didn't expect something so obvious. "Well, uh, I guess I could tell you a little bit. What do ya want to know?"

Crystal was suddenly very intrigued. "What does she look like?"

Ironhide scratched under his chin as he thought about it. "Well, she looks....she's kinda like...oh hell, lemme just see if I can find some pictures." He turned to the data pad built into his arm and began shifting through files.

"Make sure that's a family friendly picture, Ironhide," Trailbreaker grinned.

Ironhide threw him a glare, but kept searching. "I know I got one around here somewhere."

Trailbreaker was now looking over his shoulder as if to help him search. "Maybe Jazz has some old ones. Or maybe even Sunstreaker."

Ironhide grumbled something about young punks being too pretty.

“Well, I know she’s got pictures of him!”

Ironhide stopped completely what he was doing.

"Do ya WANT me to send you to the med bay? Because ya seem to be askin’ fer it."

Trailbreaker instantly went back to his seat, hands up in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. I'll keep my stupid trap shut."

Ironhide grunted his agreement and went back to searching.

"Ah, here's one she sent me a long time ago before we left Cybertron."

Crystal scooted closer so she could see the small screen on his arm. The picture had two Autobots in it. Both were surprisingly female looking. They were less bulky and had sharper, feminine facial features.

"This is Chromia." Ironhide tapped on the blue female. "This is her friend Firestar. They took this picture after they blew up a Decepticon reactor plant to make me feel better because I couldn't go."

A smoking building could be seen in the background. The blue one, Chromia, had a large weapon in her hand which was also smoking and a satisfied smile on her face. The red and orange female with her was making a shooting motion towards the building behind them.

A smile of nostalgia crossed over Ironhide’s face. "Chromia was always thinking of me like that."

Crystal stared hard at the picture and then up at Ironhide as his expression turned to one of melancholy.

"You miss her," she said quietly.

"Yeah. I guess I do. It's been quite a while since I've seen her."

"Do you...love her?"

Ironhide shifted in discomfort and scratched at the back of his neck. "Well, yeah. I mean we've been together for a long time. She's my femme."

A strange look covered Crystal's face. Then she got up. "Thanks guys, I'll talk to you later. I've got other stuff to do."

She left the two confused Autobots behind as she retreated from the break room and ran back to her own private quarters. There she sat on her cot with the rose Bluestreak had given her, going over this new information.

This changed things. She wished it didn't, but it did. And she felt stupid for not even considering the possibility. Before, she thought she was beginning to understand her new life as a living robot. Now she was back at square one as a whole swarm of different possibilities opened up for her. So many new questions and no one to answer them. Or was there? She could try to ask. There was no harm in that. The more she knew about it, the better she could cope.

Crystal left her present behind and went back out to search of answers. Ratchet hadn't been in the med bay earlier, but she thought she would pop her head in to see if he had wandered back.

Nope. Still empty. Crystal went in anyway.. Maybe Ratchet had some schematics on female Autobots. She could possibly learn from that. Maybe their definition of female was different than humans. Maybe she was blowing this out of proportion.

"You look like you're on a mission."

Crystal's head instantly shot up from the computer screen.

It wasn't Ratchet who had come into the med bay.

"What do you want, Smokescreen?" she glared at him.

He shrugged nonchalantly as he wandered in. "I just happened to overhear your conversation in the break room. It made me curious."

Crystal continued to frown. Her first encounter with Smokescreen had not been a pleasant one. But it had deterred him from coming back to see her until recently. The incident in the artillery closet. From what she understood, he and Wheeljack never found anything there when she left. If either had gone back since, she didn't know of it. All she knew was that suddenly, the blue Datsun was interested in her again and made it a habit of poking his nose in her business. Of which she did not appreciate at all.

What did this nosy Autobot keep coming back for? What did he want?

"I'm not interested in satisfying your curiosity," Crystal told him curtly as she shut down the computer. Forget this. She would just come back another time when Ratchet was here and this one wasn't.

"Why not?" He continued to come closer. "You seem quite curious. I could answer some of your questions if you like. You want to know about female Autobots?"

Crystal suddenly grinned. "Somehow, I don't think you know as much about them as you think you do."

"You didn't even know they existed until just a little while ago," he shot back. He moved even closer. "What I don't get is why you're surprised in the first place. Though it has certainly explained your behavior."

He was so close now, Crystal was backing up to get away from him. Her back hit the wall and there was no more room to retreat. Smokescreen closed in.

"When you look at us, what exactly do you see, little human? Hmm?" He put a hand on the wall on either side of her, blocking her in. Crystal's fuel pump started to pick up. What was he going to do?

"It's time to get you out of that little fantasy land," Smokescreen continued. His face was so close now Crystal could almost feel his words on her face instead of just hearing them.

"We're not your toys and we're not your pets,” Smokescreen insisted, his voice going lower. “You can't treat us like your emotions are too evolved for us to understand because they're not. Every single _male_ Autobot in this base understands you and they understand what you are."

Crystal stared at him. His whole body surrounded her and she was trapped. His proximity made her extremely aware how much bigger he was, how strong he was. How male he was. And it frightened her.

Suddenly, Smokescreen wasn't there any more. There was a flash of movement, then a heavy thud on the wall next to her. He was pressed face first into the wall with his hand pinned behind his back by a very angry Prowl.

Crystal was stunned. She had never seen the black and white Autobot that furious before. She had never heard him growl like that before.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he said in a dangerous voice. It even made Crystal shrink back when he looked at her.

"Are you okay?" he then asked in a serious, but softer tone.

"I didn't touch her!" Smokescreen argued.

Prowl's response was to shove him harder into the wall.

"Are you?" Prowl asked Crystal again.

She shook herself and tried to gather her wits. "Yeah, I'm fine." Even as she said that, she wrapped her arms around herself. "He wasn't hurting me, he was just being the usual pain in the ass."

Prowl nodded. "Now if you would excuse us, I need to have a talk with my brother."

Crystal was more than happy to get out of there.

* * *

The two Lamborghinis had been searching through the base for a while until they finally found what they were looking for in one of the recharge berths.

"Ugh, how long do we have to wait?" Sunstreaker asked his brother.

Sideswipe looked at the timer and then ignored it. "It doesn't matter, she only needs like twenty minutes anyway." He turned off the berth and flipped open the lid before Sunstreaker could stop him.

Crystal flicked on her optics when she was exposed. She had been sleeping and she was a bit confused at first over what was going on. To see Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s faces looming over her did not explain anything.

"Can I....help you guys?"

Sideswipe reached right in and picked her up in his arms. Crystal squeaked in surprise and put an arm around his neck on reflex to gain her balance. Sunstreaker slapped a palm to his face at his brother's lack of respect for personal space. He would have to beat some manners into him later.

Sideswipe balanced the much smaller form in one arm as he put down the lid to the recharge berth and set her on top.

"We have something for you," he announced proudly.

All objections Crystal had to being bothered were replaced with her curiosity.

"Oh?"

Sideswipe went to grab something from Sunstreaker who slapped him away and produced it himself. Crystal took it—a thin sheet of metal—and looked it over. It was an etching of a foreign cityscape the likes she had never seen before. It had high spires and layers of streets and buildings. In the background were stars and galaxies and comets.

"Is this...Cybertron?" Crystal wondered.

"I live here," Sideswipe joked, pointing to a building.

"Yeah," Sunstreaker confirmed. "I thought about drawing Earth for you since, you know, that's your home planet. But I already had this picture in my head and I thought, you know, we'd all be going here someday..."

"Wait, you _drew_ this, Sunstreaker?" Crystal demanded in awe.

"Well, yeah. I used to do a lot of that kind of stuff before the war."

"That's amazing!"

"I helped with some stars," Sideswipe volunteered as he cuddled up right next to her. "And I signed the back." He practically helped her turn the sheet over in his excitement.

On the back was Sunstreaker's name in gorgeous handwriting and Sideswipe's printed rather roughly.

"Happy Valentine's day," Crystal read out loud. "Oh no...did you two talk to Bluestreak this morning?"

"Bluestreak?" Sunstreaker demanded. "What are you talking about. I've been working on that for almost two weeks!"

First there was relief to know that her secret to Bluestreak, so far, was safe. Second came the self-consciousness.

"So you've been working on this...just for me? For Valentine's Day?"

If she were still human, she probably would have been blushing.

"Sure," Sunstreaker shrugged. "I just thought that since—" He paused. "Wait a minute."

He was suddenly in her face, leaning in and filling up all the personal space around her. Now Crystal would have been bright crimson as she clutched the picture to her chest. His face— his mouth—was so close to hers.

Sunstreaker gaped at her. "You know," he accused. He pulled back and laughed. "You finally figured it out!"

"Figured what out, bro?" Sideswipe wondered.

Crystal was silently asking the same thing.

Sunstreaker grinned wickedly. "That we like girls."

"Well of course we do," Sideswipe confirmed. "Who do you think we made out with, Crys? Each other?"

She gaped at him. "I didn't expect you to 'make out with' anybody! You're robots!"

"So?" Sunstreaker said. "Does that mean we're not allowed to like girl robots?"

"I didn't know there were any girl robots. What are they even used for?" Crystal sputtered.

The yellow Autobot got a silly grin. "What _aren't_ they used for?"

Crystal scrambled off the berth to put some distance between the twins and herself. "Look, I just didn't realize, okay? There weren't any around, so I just assumed..."

"Oh, I get it!" Sideswipe announced. "Now you're worried you don't match up to other female Autobots." He patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, you're pretty in your own way. And you've got a nice personality."

Crystal's mouth fell open. "Are you saying I'm ugly?!"

Sunstreaker, who had been making cutting motions to his brother, now jumped into the conversation. "No, no! He's not saying that at all! You look fine. You just...you're..."

"Okay, so compared to Cybertronian standard of beauty then, how do I rate?"

"Come on, everyone has different opinions," Sunstreaker insisted. "You can't—"

Sideswipe tipped his hand to the side in a so-so gesture.

Crystal was offended again, mouth hanging open.

“I don’t think you look...that bad,” Sunstreaker floundered in a soft, helpless voice. “You’re actually kind of...”

"I have to go!" she informed them and stomped out of the room.

"Wait, you forgot the—" Sunstreaker picked up the forgotten picture, but Crystal was already gone. He held the picture he worked on so fervently for a while, then turned and glared at his brother. Sideswipe gave a shrill, feminine shriek when his twin suddenly attacked him.

* * *

Ratchet had been hanging out in Wheeljack's lab, enjoying a quiet glass of energon and shooting the breeze with the inventor. The door was suddenly kicked in so violently it hit the far wall.

"You made me ugly?!" Crystal demanded in a shrill voice.

Wheeljack spilled energon on himself and almost fell off his stool. Ratchet sat up, his optics wide. Of all the talks he expected to have with her, this had not been one of them.

"You have to understand, the goal was to save your life, everything else came secondary. Not to mention the fact that we were very limited with what we had to work with here at the base."

"And we are going to make you a new body," Wheeljack put in. "This one was always meant to be temporary until we could build you a more acceptable one."

"More acceptable meaning not so ugly," Crystal translated.

"You're not ugly," Ratchet insisted. "You just don't look like a normal femme."

Crystal leaned over to look at her reflection in the shiny metal table. She didn't look at herself that much if she could help it. It felt too strange to see that reflection. Everything else she had come to accept, but she hadn't quite come to terms with her reflection yet.

She could see her lime green optics shining back at her. They were a bit big. Probably the only size they had. Her face looked normal to her, it was a regular female face. Just basic, but feminine enough. The rest of her she knew was colored magenta and some dark grays. She looked like a girl robot as far as she could tell. She wasn't sure how else she was supposed to look.

"What would make me look more normal?"

Ratchet's optics widened as he was put on the spot. He was a skilled medic. Not so skilled at making females feel good about themselves.

"Uh...well, it's like..."

"Alt mode," Wheeljack put in. "That's a big part of it."

"Yes! Exactly!" Ratchet agreed. "Having an alt mode is definitely part of the aesthetics. Which, of course, we will make sure your new body has. After that, really, it just depends on personal opinion. Different males like different qualities and designs in their females and visa versa."

Crystal looked down at her reflection again. "So my face isn't horrible to look at?"

"Your face? No, no. With our kind, many faces look the same. Except for Wheeljack's."

"Har har, Ratchet."

"Physical attraction is mostly based on the full body design. The alt mode, of course, plays some part. But also how the alt mode is designed into the root mode. Color plays a little lesser part. It all depends on the individual, really. Some males and females both are only attracted to certain alt modes. Such as land or air designs. For others, it's more important that personalities match. But really, I don't believe there are any cultural physical...perfections that certain genders try to reach. We have far too much diversity of design."

Crystal nodded, looking satisfied. It was actually really nice to know. Especially with the brand new information that there were actually female Autobots around and the two genders were attracted to each other. This opened up a whole new world and a new set of questions.

"Can I ask about one more thing? I'm sorry if this sounds weird, but why _are_ there female Cybertronians?"

Ratchet and Wheeljack looked at her blankly. As males, both knew why there was a fairer gender for them.

"Speaking from a biological point of view,” she clarified. “Two genders are meant for reproduction, but Cybertronians don't reproduce. So what’s the point of having both males and females?"

Both Autobots were back to square one.

"Why not have females," Wheeljack offered. "The world would be quite dull without them, that's for sure."

Crystal looked at him, that wasn't the answer she was searching for. But apparently neither of these two knew the answer. So she decided to let it drop for now.

"Okay well, can you tell me what's the difference between a male and female Cybertronian then? Are they just smaller and prettier, or what?"

Ratchet, who had been scratching his chin over the previous question, perked up. This he knew the answer to.

"That's part of it. Most females have a more feminine appearance. But that's not always the case with every design. There are some out there who's gender is a bit ambiguous because of their outer appearance. The real deciding factor of gender comes from within. We have many of the same internal parts, but there's also types of parts designed for strictly females or males. Those parts make the body process energy differently. Thus, the energy signature for each gender is different.

"The signatures for males and females are opposites. They compliment each other and pull each other in. This plays a part of the male/female attraction to each other."

"But I have all male parts inside me, don't I?" Crystal said. "Because I haven't heard any of this stuff before now. I'm pretty sure you don't have any 'female parts' on this ship."

Ratchet and Wheeljack looked at each other guiltily.

"That's true," Wheeljack admitted. "Like we've said before, we had to work with what we had. We don't have any females on Earth so we don't carry any female parts for repairs."

"Though that actually worked out for the best," Ratchet put in.

Crystal, who was feeling the most unattractive she had ever felt in her life, rested her chin on her palm. "Oh, do explain this to me."

Now Ratchet felt bad for saying it, but he continued. "Crystal, you are female. Even if your internal workings don't fit our definitions, there's nothing we can put in you that will change who you are. Now take into consideration you are living in a base full of males who haven't seen a female in a very long time."

Crystal's optics widened. She suddenly felt stuck in a base full of predators.

Ratchet put a hand on her shoulder and Crystal tried not to jump.

"Look, we're all aware you're female and it's fine. But it's just, I think, a good idea that you're not giving out that female energy signature."

"At least until you have an alt mode so you can get away," Wheeljack put in.

Ratchet smacked him in the chest. "Don't say things like that!"

Crystal had enough. All this was too much to take in. She needed a break.

"Yeah, I'm going to go now," she said.

The two watched her leave.

"Think she'll be okay?" Wheeljack wondered.

Ratchet shrugged. "Nothing's changed really, she's just seeing things in a new light now. She'll survive."

* * *

Jazz was in the office he and Prowl shared, but usually only Prowl used. Jazz would only come in if he needed supplies or a specific file or report. Today was no different. Offices didn't suit him. He liked being out doing things, not sitting behind a desk. This was where Ironhide caught him.

"Uh, hey Jazz," Ironhide said a bit hesitantly when he came in.

Jazz didn't notice his tone. "Hey 'Hide. Prowl's not here right now if you need him." Usually anyone who was looking for a Second in Command was looking for Prowl. Jazz didn't mind one bit. Actually, he preferred it that way.

"Well actually, I was wanting ta ask you something," Ironhide admitted, rubbing the back of his helm.

"Oh yeah?" Now Jazz was curious. He leaned against the desk. "Shoot, man."

"Well uh, I was wondering..." He had a hard time meeting Jazz's gaze. "If you had any old picture files...of Chromia?"

Jazz's grin fell. Mostly of surprise. "Chromia? Wow. Those would be some old files. I got rid of most of them when you came around. I might have a few still hanging around back in my files on Cybertron, but nothing on me here. Sorry, man."

Ironhide's shoulders slumped. "That's okay. Just thought I'd ask."

Jazz grinned again. "Holiday gettin' to ya, huh?"

"Yeah, maybe. I just kinda realized I didn't have many pictures of her."

Jazz clapped him on the shoulder. "Well now you've got a goal for the next time you see her, huh? Later, 'Hide. Gotta get back to work."

Ironhide managed a smile. Not a bad idea. "Yeah, see ya around, Jazz."

* * *

Crystal heard a crunch of twigs behind her. Coming through the jumble of bare trees was a green Autobot. With winter still hanging on, he didn’t blend into the forest background as much as he did during the other seasons. Still too much stark white snow and black tree trunks for that.

"You're a bit hard to find today," he remarked as he came up next to her.

"Just making you use those tracking skills of yours," she teased back. Though really she just needed to get out of the base. The day was only about half way over and it had already felt like a long one. She had so much to think about.

"Anything I can do for you, Hound?"

“Yes, actually. There's something some of the guys want to show you if you are willing to come back to the base."

She wasn't sure why, but she felt suspicious. "What is it?"

“We kind of heard from Bluestreak you never got a valentine before."

Her mouth fell open. "No, he did not!"

"I'm afraid he did."

She covered her optics with one hand. "This is kind of embarrassing. I did not mean to tell him that."

He grabbed her hand and tugged her back toward the Ark. "The damage is already done now, just come and see it."

Reluctantly, Crystal allowed herself to be dragged back. Once inside, she found it regrettable to find that several Autobots had congregated in the main area, waiting for her. It was too late to back out now. Time to swallow the embarrassment and just be polite.

One of the first Autobots to catch her eye was Bluestreak and she gave him a stern look for causing all this. The gray Datsun had the sense to look chastised for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Before they could get to the main group, a large, bulky body stood in the way: Sludge, in dinosaur mode. He tried to say something to her, but there was an object in his mouth. When he realized communication was useless, he lowered this head and dropped the object into Crystal’s hands.

“For her, Crystal. Me find,” Sludge said proudly.

She held it up. A somewhat heart-shaped rock.

“Me Swoop help find, too!” he called as he perched on Sludge’s back.

“Awww....” the tone was half endearment and half ‘you shouldn’t have’. But she kept the rock and thanked the two eager Dinobots.

Now to the main group.

There were several Autobots around, still trying to look like they were doing more important things than waiting for her. The few that consisted of a purposeful greeting party were Mirage, Trailbreaker, Perceptor, and Red Alert with Bumblebee in the middle. Brawn was close by, but trying really hard not to look like a part of the group.

“We made this for you,” Bumblebee announced as he held out to her what, at first glance, looked like some kind of clear statue. “It’s crystal for Crystal.”

“Oh, har har,” Crystal shot back.

It had a wide base with a thin stand holding up an Autobot insignia made beautifully of crystal with all the colors of the rainbow swimming inside it.

“It’s very pretty.” she said.

“We had everyone sign it,” Bumblebee explained as he pointed to the base littered by several signatures.

“Thank you. It’s very nice. But really, you guys didn’t have to–”

SKKREEEEEEEEEEE

The whole room filled with the horrible sound of metal scratching against heavy metal. Crystal flinched at the horrible teeth shattering, nerve popping noise.

It was Optimus Prime. For whatever reason, he was dragging a huge slab of metal almost his own height into the room. Even the other Autobots were cringing before the noise finally stopped.

Crystal was horrified to see that it has a massive pink heart outlined on it like some grossly over-sized Valentine card. Optimus Prime gestured grandly to it as he approached her.

“For you,” he announced in that deep, authoritive voice of his.

Crystal stared at him. “Why, Optimus Prime?!” she bawled. She couldn’t remember being this mortified.

Optimus Prime was grinning. He had to be. She knew most often, if a Cybertronian had a mask, there wasn’t anything beneath it. Mouths weren’t necessary for a robot to emit words like it was for humans. It all depended on the facial design. But with Optimus Prime, he had to have a mouth under there. Because it seemed like he was grinning at her like he had just played the best joke ever.

"Me Grimlock help, too!" the Dinobot leader announced. He pointed to a pink T-Rex claw print in the corner of the world's largest valentine.

Crystal looked at it helplessly. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this mortified.

"What? You no like?" Grimlock demanded. "But me Grimlock toil endlessly for you! Have to cut this out!"

Optimus Prime was trying not to laugh. Both leaders were jerks.

"Thanks you guys," she said in a less than sincere voice. "I really...appreciate it."

"You better," Grimlock insisted. "Me Grimlock not make for just anyone."

By now, other Autobots were laughing too and patting her on the shoulder, showing her it was all in good fun. Crystal tried to be a good sport about it despite having to put up with so much attention. She did her best to let them have their joke.

After it had calmed down a bit, Sunstreaker approached her when he was able to speak with her one on one. The usually confident Autobot looked uncharacteristically timid as he came up to her, a thin sheet of metal in his hand.

“Umm, did you still want this? You kind of forgot it.” He held his picture out to her lamely. But inside, if he had the ability to breathe, he would have been holding his breath.

“Oh, yes!” Crystal tried to balance the other objects in her hands so she could take the picture. She hadn’t meant to shun his gift before. Despite her aversion to being the center of attention, she really appreciated the time he had taken and she wanted to keep it.

“Sorry about that. I really like the picture.”

She balanced as best she could to reach up and kiss his cheek. However, Sunstreaker was a bit taller than most of the Autobots and she could only reach the side of his chin. Despite all the new information she had learned today, she figured it would be harmless enough. All in the spirit of the season after all.

“Thank you again.”

Sunstreaker’s eyes widened at the act, then he smiled.

“Heh, don’t mention it. Glad you like it.”

* * *

On the other side of the room, Ratchet and Ironhide had been loitering while all of this was going on.

"Interesting day," Ironhide commented as he leaned against the wall. "I heard you had quite a talk with her. I had no idea she didn't realize we had females and, ya know, relationships. I thought it would be obvious."

Ratchet shrugged. "We convince ourselves of some strange things when we feel we need to, I guess. Perhaps it helped her cope with her own situation to look at our culture in that light. Though she asked me a peculiar question.” The medic rubbed his chin as the earlier conundrum came to mind. “She asked me why we have females when we don't biologically need them to increase our numbers. When we had the technology to increase our numbers, that is."

Ironhide's mouth ticked up at the side. "What did you tell her?"

"I really didn't have an answer for her. I had never thought about it before."

Ironhide chuckled. "You surprise me, Ratchet. I thought ya knew the answer to that question."

The medic looked at him skeptically. "And you do?"

"Of course I do. The answer is simple. We have femmes because we need them. Can you imagine a world without them?"

"Megatron did." Ratchet frowned. "Apparently he didn't find a use for them either when he ordered all the female Decepticons wiped out."

"And that's why we need them," Ironhide nodded. "We need them to remind us so the war doesn't make us forget. How ta feel, how to protect, how to be gentle. They remind us what we're fighting for. And if this war ever ends they'll remind us how to live without it again.

"Check out Sunstreaker." He pointed to where the yellow Autobot was still talking with Crystal, looking very pleased with himself.

"That mech used to bristle at the slightest thing," Ironhide recalled. "She's softened his edges since she’s been here. That's what they do. As mechs we're rough, violent and stupid. The femmes, they complete everything we're not. That's why we have them. That's why Primus created us to be different."

Ratchet thought on that and then grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. "Ironhide, you're smarter than we give you credit for."

The weathered Autobot instantly growled. "What's that supposed ta mean?!"

* * *

Crystal tried once again to hide outside the Ark for some alone time. All her presents had been put away aside from the ghastly, giant valentine that now haunted the main area. It had been such a strange day. So different from her days and days of routine work to keep herself busy. She had learned new things that day that shouldn't have changed anything, but it somehow felt like it did.

She had seen them so different before. Or maybe, she told herself, she had been trying hard to make sure they seemed different from her. To find out they were more similar than she first imagined left her feeling out of place and further away from them rather than closer. In truth, she didn't know what to feel anymore.

It was now dusk. She sat at the side of the volcano as two pale forms came around, glowing in the faint, remaining light.

"Hey," Jazz greeted. "I hope you don't mind putting up with us for a little while."

Crystal forced a smile. "No, it's fine. Come sit." She patted the ground next to her.

Jazz and Prowl sat on either side of her, boxing her in. They were hardly taller than she was, but they had a heavy bulk to them that Crystal couldn't compete with. When they were together, they seemed like a force that demanded respect and awe. So much different than how she remembered them when they were small and invading her New York apartment.

They both had a beauty about them. Stark white and black. Elegant, powerful. She had seen them both in action. They were heavily built, but carried themselves like all that heavy armor was nothing. Having them together so close to her made her feel clumsy and simple and plain.

Her thoughts went back to what Ratchet had explained to her earlier. She lacked an alt mode which meant she lacked in physical beauty to their culture. She wondered if she appeared ugly to them. What did they look for in female Autobots? Crystal suddenly wondered if they had anyone either of them had left back home. It was strange to look at them and wonder if there was anyone they pined for when they got lonely in the middle of the night. Certainly they had both known females more beautiful than herself. The thought made her pull her legs up to her chest and hug her knees. She was glad for the fading light.

"Crystal," Prowl spoke in that low, calm tone he had. "About earlier today. If Smokescreen bothers you again, you let me know, alright?"

Crystal shrugged, embarrassed yet again. "It wasn't a big deal. He's annoying, but I know he's harmless. I think he just likes pushing people's buttons."

"I don't want him near you," Prowl announced with such resignation that Crystal jerked her head around to stare at him. He met her gaze with all seriousness.

Jazz made a coughing sound to break the tension and to stop Prowl from getting too bent out of shape over something that had already happened.

"Uh, the real reason we came out here, Crys,” Jazz explained. “Is because we got something for you.”

"Oh jeeze." She hid her face in her hands. "Don't you guys think the joke has gone on long enough? I don't need any more presents. Really."

Jazz grinned. "Yeah, but we've been meaning to give this to you for a while. We just didn't know when would be the right time."

He tapped a thin disk on the top of her head and Crystal reached up to grab it. It only had her name on it. There was no other indication of what it contained.

"It's your video," Jazz explained. "With your home movies on it. Prowl dug it out and I converted it to a disk."

Crystal stared at it. She hadn't given any thought to the long lost tape for quite some time now. It was too painful to think about it. But to have it mentioned and hold it in her hands, she had not been prepared for that. Her face twisted in pain and her shoulders heaved. Without warning, she began to cry.

Prowl stiffened, looking ready to jump to his feet. His optics were wide in horror at what had just happened.

Jazz handled it a bit better. He gathered her up in his arms and pulled the smaller form against his side. Crystal tried to fight it. She abhorred crying in front of either one of them, let alone both. But the flood gates were open and she couldn't stop it.

"Hey," Jazz soothed as he rubbed her back and put his cheek on the top of her head. "It's okay. It will be okay."

This was actually what they had been hoping to avoid by keeping the tape for so long. That tape was the strongest connection to her human life and neither was sure how she would react to it. Ratchet had suggested they confirm her mental stability before giving it to her.

Prowl was worried that they had given it to her too soon, but Jazz understood. No matter how much time had passed, some things just need to be mourned and there was nothing wrong with that.

Crystal still fought it. In the past she was perfectly content to playfully cuddle up to certain Autobots like Jazz or Blaster, but she just couldn’t do it today. As soon as she started crying, she was trying to get herself to stop. She pushed away from Jazz and willed herself to become composed again.

“Crystal,” Prowl said, his hand hovering over her shoulder, afraid to touch her. “I apologize if we upset you. It wasn’t our intention.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” She kept touching her face to wipe away the tears, but there weren’t any. Her optics were unable to produce them. It still felt weird. “I just wasn’t prepared, that’s all. I am really happy to have this back. Really.”

Jazz was not as hesitant to make contact and rubbed her back. “Don’t worry about it. You do what you feel like, okay?”

She smiled up at him gratefully. Jazz always knew what to say. Prowl, however, felt more helpless than ever. He never knew what to do with her. She had a way that made him feel useless at times and he silently envied Jazz’s social abilities.

“Hey guys,” Sideswipe greeted casually as he strolled up to them. “Mind if I borrow Crys for a second? I have one last thing to give her in spirit of the holidays.”

Crystal sighed on the inside. More presents? This day was never going to end. However, she stood up and put on a gracious face.

“Alright, Sideswipe,” she said as temperately as she could. “What else do you want to give me.”

The red Autobot suddenly grabbed her and dipped her backwards, putting his full, metal mouth on her. Crystal sputtered as the two Autobot seconds jumped up and voiced their objection. Soon the night air was full of all sorts of shouts and cries as the two seconds chased him off. Crystal watched them all go, unsure of how to feel. It had definitely been an odd day.

**Close File #013 Gentle - Ironhide**


	14. Incomplete

**The Autobot Files**

**File #014 - Incomplete**

Ratchet tried hard to concentrate. He was working on Cliffjumper's shoulder joint. It was a delicate process and the fact that his patient was one of the smallest Autobots was not making the situation easier. So it really didn't help that he could feel a presence hovering over him the entire time.

"Is this a really pressing matter, Smokescreen?" Ratchet said without looking up. "Because I'm busy right now and I don't need someone looming over my shoulder the entire time."

"I just had a quick question," the blue Datsun responded, ignoring the request to wait his turn. "I've noticed that Prowl's had....a high aversion to me lately."

"That's cuz he doesn't like you, Smokescreen," Cliffjumper smirked at him. "I thought you would have noticed by now."

"Well yeah, but we always got along on a professional level. Prowl doesn't let anything personal interfere with his job. But lately I've noticed he's been getting angrier at me. Like he's..." Smokescreen rubbed the back of his helmet. "Holding a grudge."

Ratchet spared him a glance. "Is he?"

Smokescreen looked away, the very picture of guilt.

By then, Cliffjumper's procedure was finished and Ratchet sent him on his way. Then the medic sat himself down to give Smokescreen is full attention.

"So what exactly is your question for me?"

Smokescreen shifted. "I was just wondering—Prowl's battle computer—has he had any problems with it lately?"

"It's been on the fritz. It's going to go completely offline eventually."

Smokescreen actually balked at the news. "Can't you fix it, Doc?"

"I told Prowl I wasn't going to. He doesn't need it."

"I see."

Was it just Ratchet's imagination, or did Smokescreen look worried?

The blue Datsun shrugged it of and replaced it with his usual cheeky grin. "Well, just get the med bay ready in case they have to carry me through the door in pieces."

Ratchet raised an optic ridge. "May I suggest staying out of his way and behaving yourself?"

Smokescreen had the good sense to look chastised. "I'll give it a try. But no promises."

"Just try it for a little while. The battle computer gradually breaking down which gives Prowl a chance to slowly get used to not having it. But it's still going to be hard for him for a while when it does."

Smokescreen looked a little smaller as he moved to leave the room. "Thanks, Doc. I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Prowl woke up from recharge in confusion. The berth didn't look familiar to him. It was a different, newer style than he was used to. For a moment, he panicked. What if someone was playing a prank on him? What if he had been injured and dragged to some strange med bay? What if he had been captured by enemies?

It would take a few moments, but then Prowl remembered and everything would fell into place. The recharge berths weren't new. In fact, they were old designs themselves by now. And he wasn't on Cybertron, he was on Earth. It was a strange feeling to wake up in the past and then have the present rush in on you. But that was what he had been doing for several weeks now.

Prowl lifted the lid of the berth and sat up, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as if it would help his thoughts and memories find a proper merger. It was the battle computer's fault. Week by week it was failing a little bit more in doing the job it had done for a very long time. All the old memories it had been blocking were slowly leaking out. Memories that his processor was not used to remembering. It was having a hard time trying to figure out where to file them. Hence, during recharge, they would run through his mind as if he had just lived them and when he would wake, he felt stuck back in that time. He would give it a few minutes and then his filing system would put everything in the right chronological order and he could continue the day in the present without too much distraction from past memories.

The emotions connected to those memories, however, were harder to deal with. Despite what some may have thought of him, Prowl had never lived without emotions. Even with his battle computer at full strength. What the device allowed him to do was stand apart from them so he could control them instead of the other way around. He could feel anything from joy to anger just as much as the next Autobot, but his computer allowed him to identify the emotion and decide whether it should be put away or experienced.

At first, he used it to block the traumatic emotions just so he could function. Then, he used it to block out the inconvenient emotions as well such as worry, irritation, and doubt. Then, it was just so much easier to block them all out. With his computer automatically filing them all away, it was easier to work without distraction. Soon it came to the point where he had to make a conscious decision to feel if he wanted to emotionally react to something. This worked for him for many, many years.

But it couldn't last forever. Emotions were leaking out randomly now. Some connected with past memories, some responses to present events. So far he was still staying on top of it. When one would surface for what seemed like no reason, Prowl would stop and analyze it. If it was a past emotion, he would put it in his memory banks where it belonged. If it was related to what was going on around him, he would deal with it the best he could. He was controlling it, but just barely. He kept telling himself, as long as the battle computer continued at this speed, he would be able to handle it.

He slid off the berth and readied himself for another day. As Prowl stepped purposefully out of the recharge room, he almost ran right into a smaller figure walking by.

"Oh, Prowl!" Crystal put on the breaks just in time, clutching the supplies she had in her arms tightly to her chest. Their bodies had touched, but not enough to collide with each other and, no doubt, send Crystal's smaller form to the ground. "Excuse me, I wasn't paying attention."

"I also should have been more aware," Prowl said. He caught himself staring at her and remaining near her. He quickly side stepped and looked away.

Crystal was both the easiest and the hardest thing about his ordeal with the battle computer. Her presence simplified his time confusion. Because unlike everyone else at the Ark, she was not in his life before he left Cybertron. Seeing her kept him grounded in the present. If she was there, it felt like everything would be fine and the phantoms of his past had no grasp on him while he was in the here and now.

To see Crystal first thing after recharge, however, was very difficult. He still had not organized and shelved all his wandering emotions from their rampant excursions during his recharge. And to his dismay, he had already trained his programming to close down the emotion inhibitor when he saw her.

It was a practice that stemmed from the very first time he met her. A human Crystal had bent down and looked his smaller form in the face and expected nothing to be held back from her. That was the price of her loyalty and her affection, and Prowl had no choice but to pay it. With his small size and his comrades missing, he needed her more than he wanted to admit. So he gave of himself when she asked for it and could not hold back when she looked at him like she expected nothing less.

When he was his own size again, she didn't look at him any different. When she spoke to him so open and bluntly, he could do nothing but respond in kind. It was the same when she was given her robot body. She still looked at him the same and he had no choice but to continue to drop his inhibitors and face whatever he was feeling when he was with her.

Programs learn over time when used routinely. It got to the point where the inhibitor shut down at the mere sight of her. When he realized this, Prowl thought it a step in the right direction as far as Crystal was concerned. The last thing he wanted was to suddenly shut her out after making her go through so much. So he made no steps to correct the behavior.

Now he was paying for it. To see her while he was still trying to get a handle on himself opened the flood gates at full force. For a while, he had a hard time just seeing in front of him.

"Prowl?" Crystal touched him on the arm and was surprised when he actually jumped at the contact. "What's the matter? And don't tell me it's nothing."

There she went again, asking and looking at him like he better not hold back on her.

Prowl looked away again, glancing back to the recharge berths. "It's hard to explain."

"Bad dreams?" Crystal guessed.

Prowl was about to say no, but it wasn't quite out of the ball park.

"In a way."

Whatever was in her arms went to the floor. It wasn't as important as he was. She stood on her toes and hugged him around the neck.

"You'll figure it out, I know you will."

Prowl was about to gently protest and pull away, but he experienced something surprising. Her embraced stopped it all. She hugged him and the emotional turmoil quieted and fell away. All that was left was peace. It was a relief to feel that serenity inside him and he just stood there, too stupefied to move.

Crystal pulled back, hands still on his shoulders. "You know you can always come see me if you're having trouble with nightmares." She smiled and then suddenly remembered. "Uh, not in THAT way, you know. But just, if you wanted to talk or something. I'm always around."

It had been one of many slip ups lately after Crystal realized her behavior around them had been grossly inappropriate sometimes. She was still getting used to treating them like what they were instead of some novel beings that just happened to be able to converse with her

The side of Prowl's mouth ticked up and he opened his mouth to say something. But the warning beep on his personal radio stopped all thoughts in their tracks.

"Decepticons," Prowl said as he looked at his communicator. "I have to go." He started quickly down the hall.

"Hey Prowl," Crystal called to him.

He paused and turned to look at her.

"Be careful, okay?" She directed two fingers to her optics. "Stay focused, alright?"

He smiled, nodded, and ran down the hall.

* * *

Once alone, Crystal gathered the discarded items she dropped on the floor. Prowl didn't have a chance to ask her about them. It was probably for the best. This was her project and she liked to do her projects alone.

It had been over a month since she had been caught writing on the walls in the artillery closet. Smokescreen and Wheeljack had spent time there with their experiments, practically pushing her out. More like Smokescreen pushed her out. She wouldn't have minded sharing space with Wheeljack. He would have made it fun. But as long as Smokescreen had interest in it, she stayed away.

With a lack of results and other things such as that concert for Red Alert's singer friend going on, he may have forgotten it by now. Hopefully Crystal would now get her turn at it again.

Poking her head into the area, she didn't see anyone around. As long as she could get inside without being spotted she would be safe to continue without being bothered. She tip-toed to the door, hoping the Dinobots wouldn’t spot her. She loved them, but if they saw her she'd have to come back and try again another day.

Luckily, no one was about and she made it inside. Once the door was closed, she spread her arm load of odds and ends on the floor.

The door opened and Smokescreen stepped in.

"Oh, come ON!" Crystal barked at him. "Why can't you leave me alone? Don't you have to go fight Decepticons?"

Smokescreen grinned. "Not my shift for battle. I'm on stand by."

"Fine," she huffed as she gathered up her things again. "Have the room. Live in here for all I care. I'm sick of playing this game."

"No, wait. Wait, wait," Smokescreen insisted. He knelt next to her, trying to stop her from packing up. "I need you here."

"Oh you need me now, do you? Suddenly I'm not so useless?"

"Yeah," was all he said to that. "Look, I don't know why, but I can't get anything to happen by myself. I've sat in this room for hours and nothing. But apparently it won't shut up if you're in the room alone. Why is that?"

"I don’t know. Maybe we have something in common?"

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

She looked him in the optics. "We both died once."

Smokescreen pressed his mouth in a firm line. “Okay, fine. So what's your plan?"

Crystal began organizing the supplies she brought. She set out two cards made of thin sheet metal with Cybertronian script on them. One card said 'yes' the other said 'no'. Then she picked up a crystal pendant she had tied to a string.

"As near as I can tell, the apparition is mostly residual. I can't see him, but the voice always comes from the same spot. And while he seems to react to my presence, the things he says are repeated over and over like a recording."

"So you're saying all those things he yelled at you..."

"May not have been at me. They were possibly just his last words repeated over and over. I'm going to see if I can break the cycle. I'll try to get his attention and see if there's any intelligence left in there."

Smokescreen was intrigued. "How do you know about this stuff?"

"My mother," she said with almost a sigh. "She had a very acute sixth sense about these things. She taught me some of the basic knowledge, but nothing too much. I'm afraid it wasn't something that interested me at the time so I didn't learn quite as much as I could have. Plus I never had that unique connection she had."

"Alright, well, let's see if this works!" Smokescreen was grinning in excitement now. His face looked younger. He looked a lot like Bluestreak just then.

Crystal's thoughts wandered back to what the grey Datsun once told her about Cybertronians and their aging process. Was it Smokescreen's tireless curiosity that kept him young after living for so long?

"Since you're here, I guess you can help me," Crystal admitted as she sat down and crossed her legs. "You know Cybertronian, I don't."

"I can do that." Smokescreen made himself comfortable next to her.

"Okay, when I say a question, I want you to translate it out loud for me, alright?"

"Can I ask any of my own?" Smokesreen asked. His door panels were quivering in excitement. He was suddenly like a little kid.

"If we can get a response, you can. But only yes or no questions for right now. The goal for today is to get the entity to respond directly to us. We may hear voices, but what I really want is for it to direct its energy through this crystal to indicate which card is the answer. Understand?"

Smokescreen nodded.

"Okay," Crystal held out her hand to him. "Let's join our energies to help draw it to us."

Smokescreen looked at her hand. He hesitated to touch her, but finally let her put her hand in his larger one.

"Now open yourself up. Shut off your optics if that helps. This spirit is lost, trapped in a loop. Consumed by its own last moments. We need to be a beacon, something bright to gain its attention. Something strong to help it focus its energies on us."

Smokescreen concentrated as much as he could. He really wanted this to work. He was dying to know.

"Is anyone here?" Crystal asked calmly. "Is there anyone here that wants to talk with us?"

Smokescreen was surprised she didn't raise her voice like she was calling out. He tried to mirror the tone as he translated each question into Cybertronian.

Crystal raised the pendant she had made over the "yes" card and let it dangle.

"If you are here, let us know of your presence. Concentrate on this crystal. Use it to amplify your power. Listen to my voice." She paused for a while to let the words sink in. "If you are there and you wish to communicate, let us know. Is there anyone there?"

She had her optics off during it all. Smokescreen did not. He stared intently at the crystal pendant, waiting for the slightest thing to happen. He wasn't really sure what to expect. Was it going to make noise? Glow? He was making sure he didn't miss a thing.

"Is there anyone in this room with us who wishes to communicate?" Crystal asked again.

Before Smokescreen could finish translating, the crystal pendant began to swing all on its own over the "yes" card. The blue Autobot was ecstatic. He tried to compose himself as Crystal stayed extremely collected. She grabbed the pendant to keep it still and then started again.

"Do you know who you are?"

When Smokescreen translated, Crystal moved the pendant slowly from the "No" card to the "yes" card. When it hovered over the "yes" card, it began to swing again. Crystal stilled it.

"Do you know where you are?"

She moved the pendant from card to card, but no answer came for either. Smokescreen looked at her questioningly. He didn’t know what that meant.

"Maybe it's gone,” Crystal suggested. “Let's try another question."

Smokescreen asked one in Cybertronian before Crystal could say anything. The pendant started swinging over the "yes" card.

"What did you ask?"

"If he was a Decepticon," Smokescreen responded gravely.

"Looks like you called it."

"Looks like. So how do I figure out what he's still doing here? There's gotta be a reason his spark hasn't gone back to the matrix yet."

Crystal smirked at him. "Is that what's been getting your chips in a twist over this? You just want to know what he's doing here?"

Smokescreen shrugged and smiled. "I like knowing the answers. It's what I do."

"I see. To get that answer we may have to try a different approach unless you like 20 questions. But we need to do this in baby steps. The entity doesn't spend a lot of time living in the present. Ask him if he remembers what happened."

When it was asked, the pendant didn't stir. Then it started to go around in circles in between the two cards.

"I'll take that as a sort of," Crystal said. "Ask him if he knows that he's...dead, or offline, or whatever term you use."

Smokescreen asked as the pendant instantly started swinging over the yes card. The blue Autobot's optics lit up and he asked another question before Crystal could suggest anything. At being asked if the Decepticon still had a mission to fulfill, the answer was again, yes.

Smokescreen pulled back to meditate on that. What task could be so important that it kept the spirit of a Decepticon hanging around all this time? Maybe 20 questions were in order after all.

* * *

The Decepticons had been sneaky. Megatron sent his seekers to very publicly attack a hydroelectric plant near the coast while he and the rest of his followers very quietly ransacked a completely different one. Being Oregon's top resource for power, they were Megatron's favorite targets and to Optimus Prime's consternation, Megaton was getting better and better at stealing from them.

Prowl was the one who found the seeker's act suspicious and began to hone in on other Decepticon signatures at a different plant. Optimus left Jazz with a team to take care of the seekers while he and Prowl led the remaining Autobots to foil Megatron’s plan at the other plant.

As it appeared on the horizon, it still looked in tact. Megatron wasn't as careless with such things as he as he had been during the first few years on Earth. He got out of the habit of leveling the fountains from which he drank when he had to start traveling further and further from the base for energy. Humans couldn't rebuild exploded power plants as quickly as Cybertronians could. It really put a strain on his resources to send his troops all over the planet when his immediate sources of energy were all gone without anyone to blame but himself.

It may have taken longer, but even Megatron learned to adapt to this planet and the culture of its life forms. The war on Cybertron was about power. Taking or spoiling the enemy's fuel while keeping what he could for his Decepticons. But here, destroying sources of power did not set back the Autobots at all. The world's governments donated it to them in a myriad of different ways. Megatron was only limiting his options by blowing up everything he could see.

Especially with his own army's resources dangerously low, Megatron was trodding carefully and getting sneakier about how he procured new energy. It made Prowl's job harder. At least that's what everyone else thought. To Prowl, it made the job more challenging and thus, more exciting.

Optimus Prime may have been the only one that could match Megatron blow for blow on the battlefield, but Prowl took a certain thrill at trying to guess each step of not only Megatron, but all who advised him. To out think the combined efforts of Megatron, Soundwave, and Starscream gave him a sense of personal satisfaction nothing else could match. And with his battle computer going down and his emotional inhibitions fading, Prowl was finding it exceptionally fulfilling that day as they neared the hydroelectric plant.

But as soon as they were in firing range, Megatron proved he also expected his plans to be found out. The entire Stunticon team came out of hiding and fired on the Autobots full force. The convoy scattered and swerved away from the fire.

"Well Prowl," Tracks said to him as he dodged the fire. "You got us here, now what?"

Everyone was taking cover where they could behind buildings or boulders or hills.

"There's more of us," Prowl reasoned. "With the Stunticons, we may just have to smash our way though. Mirage, sneak up on them from behind while we keep their attention from the front."

"On it," Mirage saluted before disappearing.

Prowl turned to his leader. "Do you mind having a few passengers? We're going to use Trailbreaker's force shield and you'll be the battering ram to get us in there."

Optimus Prime was definitely a peace loving Autobot, but he also seemed to have a certain sentiment towards brute force. He gave a thumbs up to his second.

"Sounds like a plan to me!"

* * *

Figuratively, Smokescreen was on the edge of his seat. He never experienced something like this before. Communication with a spark who's body had gone offline millions of years ago. Though the conversation had gone slow with the limit of only yes or no questions he was still refusing to give up.

"So this mission you had, was it important?" he asked to the silent room.

The pendant indicated yes.

"Worth even putting aside returning to the Matrix for?"

Yes.

"What kind of mission is worth that much?"

No response.

"He's got no way to answer that," Crystal reminded him.

"Right, right. I forgot." Smokescreen sat back and pondered over his next questions. "So...you know that you've been here for millions of years, right? So this mission you went on, it's got to be obsolete by now."

It wasn't quite a question, but the answer was a definitive "No".

"So this mission you can't let go of, still has validity in this time?"

Yes.

Smokescreen's face grew grave. "Will this mission cause the Decepticons to win the war?"

There was no response.

"Can this guy lie to us?" Smokescreen asked Crystal in a whisper. Then he felt stupid, acting like he was trying to stop a spirit from hearing him.

She shrugged in return. "My experience has been the spirit is prompted to answer the question as long as they know or feel strongly about the answer. When you don't get at answer, it usually means the spirit has either left or they don't know how to answer. Try wording it differently."

"Okay, uh...if you were to finish your mission, would it devastate the Autobot forces?"

Still no response.

"Maybe he left?"

"He's still here," Crystal insisted as she held the pendant in her hand. "I can feel it. He's waiting for you to ask the right question."

"Okay..." Smokescreen rubbed his palms together as he tried to think.

"Ask him if his mission is related to something that hasn't happened yet," Crystal suggested.

Smokescreen asked. The answer was yes.

"Something that hasn't happened yet..." the blue Autobot scratched his chin as he went through his many, many millennium of gathered information.

"Ask him if he's trying to prevent something bad from happening," Crystal said in a serious tone.

The answer was yes.

Smokescreen frowned. "Is something bad going to happen to Cybertron?"

The pendant was still for a moment. Then a chill filled the room as the pendant indicated "Yes".

* * *

The battle was in full force now. Prowl's plan had worked. With several Autobots hitching a ride to either side of Optimus Prime's trailer and Trailbreaker's force field, they made quite an efficient battering ram and managed to force their way past the Stunticon's initial front. But the gestalt team didn't seem to be too disheartened about it. In fact, their spirits lifted at the chance for a full contact melee.

The biggest problem was they all had their own personal force shields which made them, when they were in car mode, practically invincible when they crashed into something. And crashing head long into Autobots was one of their favorite past times.

Though the Autobots were quite sturdy themselves, such a physically taxing onslaught was taking its toll. Optimus Prime had tried to lead his troops to force their way all the way through to the plant, but Motor Master now had the Autobot leader occupied. That left Prowl to figure a better way of tackling the remaining Stunticons.

Their alt mode force fields were quite a hassle, but certain energy weapons could pierce what physical force could not. And the Stunticons couldn't shoot back unless they were root mode. Prowl took full advantage of this fact. He quickly organized his Autobots, putting those with proper energy weapons on the front lines to pierce the force shields and those without on the back lines to take shots when the Stunticons transformed to fight back.

Progress was slow, but present. The Autobots were slowly pushing forward, hopefully before Megatron and whomever else he had in the plant could get away with too much. Prowl had been so preoccupied with the aggressive Stunticons, he had completely forgotten there was one who wasn't as frantically addicted to violence, but still just as deadly. He was reminded of that fact seconds too late. The black and white Autobot didn’t even see it coming. All he felt was something collide with his back, then a rush of information and then everything shut down.

* * *

Dead End observed the battle before him with a certain bleakness that was unique only to him. Why his brothers fought so foolhardy and full of zeal was beyond him. They would all end up in the scrap heap one day anyway. What was the point of trying to race each other there?

"Hey, Wheels, whatcha doing?" Rumble asked as he approached the melancholy Decepticon. Soundwave had sent him and Frenzy out to join the fray while they finished loading the energon cubes into Astrotrain.

"This ain't no tea party. If you ain't gonna fight, then why the slag we bring ya?"

“C’mon, Frenzy. Let him mope,” Rumble tugged at his brother. “We got cans ta kick!”

Dead End watched the two cassettes run off to the battle and heaved a long suffering sigh.

“Might as well do something I suppose,” he told himself. “Drove out here and all.”

He raised his weapon and aimed for the first thing that caught his optics. Unfortunately for the poor Autobot in his sights, Dead End’s calm demeanor gave him dead aim. He pulled the trigger once and he did not miss. The white and black Autobot never saw it coming. The shot went right through his back and he was down.

* * *

Smokescreen was crouched and concentrating. His optics never left the pendant as it almost seemed to glow with an unnatural light.

“Is there anyway,” he said lowly. “That you can tell me–show me– what would it mean if you could not prevent this thing from happening?”

The pendant almost seemed to shiver in Crystal’s hand. Then it began to spin. Faster and faster until it was just a blur, it flew from Crystal’s hand and shattered against the wall. The two living beings in the room stared at it, optics wide.

“That definitely looks like this guy thinks something bad is going to happen,” Smokescreen quipped.

Crystal didn’t say anything. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened already.

* * *

The klaxon had sounded that the battle was over and the warriors were coming home with injured. During these occasions Crystal would be in the med bay if she could. She had left Smokescreen behind despite his instance to keep asking questions in the artillery closet. She just wasn't interested anymore. There were more important things to do now than talk to a ghost.

This time, the back of the medical bay had to be opened up. They were larger doors that led directly outside. This was necessary so Optimus Prime could back his trailer right in and whatever he was carrying within. The doors open and Crystal covered her mouth as Mirage and Bluestreak stepped out, Prowl's lifeless form dangling between them. He wasn't leaking fluids, but his optics were dark and there was no sign of life from the white and black Autobot.

He looked dead and it scared her. Even more so when they passed by and she saw the gaping hole in his back. She wanted to cry out, but Ratchet put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's probably not as bad as it looks," he told her with confidence. Then to the Autobots carrying his patient. "Hold him up. We're going to have to put him on his front. I've got to get some of that armor off so we can lay him down."

Bluestreak and Mirage did what they were told while Ratched grabbed some tools. He and Perceptor worked on removing the bulk of Prowl's front armor. Once most of the nose of his alt form had been removed from his chest, Ratchet looked inside.

"Looks like his spark chamber is in tact, lucky bot," Ratchet observed.

Every model was different. If Prowl had been designed with his spark chamber in the center of his chest, he would have been done for. But Prowl's design, as well as the other Datsuns, all had their chambers lower and to the left. Back in the Golden Age, all designs were the same with the spark chambers right in the middle of the chest. When the war broke out, that was where soldiers knew to attack each other to make a killing shot. In order to trick the enemy, designs began to change where the spark chamber was kept. This little trick definitely saved Prowl's life that day.

Crystal was still in shock, her hands over her mouth in fear as Prowl's body was hefted onto the examining table face down under Ratchet's direction. The medic then barked out orders for who could stay and who needed to leave his med bay before returning his attention back to his most serious patient.

He examined the large burn in the center of Prowl's back. It cut through the glass without shattering it. It was a very concentrated energy beam. That was actually a good thing. While it would sear completely through anything it hit, the damage would not scatter more than a Cybertronian-sized inch or two. Ratchet slid the glass out of its place so he could look deeper. He poked his fingers around, trying to figure out why Prowl was completely offline despite having his spark chamber unharmed.

"Ah ha!"

Crystal jumped when Ratchet announced his find. He smiled at her and beckoned her forward. "Here, come look at this."

As she inched forward, Ratchet reached in and pulled out a scorched piece of equipment. Crystal wasn't familiar with it. She still wasn't sure all was well.

"What's that?"

"This little beauty," Ratchet explained. "Is what remains of Prowl's old battle computer."

She stepped even closer, hands no longer on her mouth, but still hovering there. "Can we get him a new one?"

"He doesn't need it, actually. I've been trying to get him to agree to remove it for a while now."

Crystal wasn't convinced yet. "Then why is he just laying there? If he doesn't need it, what happened to him?"

Ratchet smiled and tossed her the piece of totaled equipment. She caught it clumsily, her system still in shock from her worry.

"These old time battle computers are a bit complex. Prowl wasn't created with it, he had it installed later in his life, which is why I know he doesn't need it to function. They're installed deep in the personality core and help regulate things like memories and emotions while boosting battle prowess. In order to safely remove and uninstall a program like this, a medic would need to shut down all processing systems before taking it out.

"What happened to Prowl here is that when his battle computer was hit, it went down while his systems were still online. Pretty much it felt to him like a really rude jolt. And it upset his systems so much it immediately shut down. So Prowl isn't in any mortal danger, his systems just locked up on him from the shock."

Crystal looked Prowl's body over. A small hand went up to lay it on a door panel, as if trying to feel the life still beating through the contact.

"So...what do we have to do for him?"

"You can help me with the hardware repairs and then we'll have Perceptor look over his internal programming to make sure there wasn't any damage as a result of the shutdown."

"What happens if there is damage?" Crystal asked in a small voice. Her hand had now drifted to his back, itching to help him with his wound.

Ratchet understood. He didn't see Crystal with Prowl much, but he understood there was a friendship there. The two had discovered a mutual trust and affection for each other several months before she ever came to live in the Ark.

"There shouldn't be any lasting damage. The computer was old and only running at about fifty percent or lower. A proper reboot should fix his systems just fine. But if we do find anything, we'll worry about that then and see what Perceptor says. For right now, let's get Prowl put back together."

"Yes, let's," she agreed.

The two got to work and Crystal was extremely happy with not only repairing a dear friend, but seeing Ratchet at work with a deep, internal wound. She didn't get to see many of those and she soaked up everything she learned from it. The shot had gone all the way through Prowl's back and went out through the upper part of his hood. The two started at the entrance of the wound and began to repair back to front.

After going as deep as they could, they replaced a new pane of glass on his back and turned the hefty Autobot over to work on the small wound in his chest. Ratchet did most of the work, explaining what he did while he was doing it. Crystal observed for the most part, handing him tools or helping when he needed smaller fingers.

When Ratchet was nearly done with the front, Crystal pulled back to look at the patient. Prowl looked so different with the brunt of his large chest armor missing. Instead of stark, smooth white, the were gaping black wires and exposed circuits. Despite how much she knew about them, how much she knew they were different from her, she sometimes forgot what they were made of on the inside. It was interesting, almost strange to see.

"I'm going to get Perceptor," Ratchet announced as he finished the last of the repairs. "I don't know if he wants us to keep the rest of the armor off for the tests or if we can close him up. Stay with him, I'll be right back."

Crystal nodded and pulled up a stool to the examining table. She rested on her elbows as she watched Prowl's inert face. She never liked it when their optics were black like that. It’s not like they had eyelids to close, but it looked too much like death not to see light in them.

Scooting closer, she put her head on his shoulder as she watched his face. Poor Prowl. She imagined he wasn't going to like missing time by being offline for so long. She hated it herself and she didn't have nearly such a full schedule. Idly, she touched his cheek with a finger, as if expecting him to stir. When he didn't, she ran the tip down the line of his face. He stayed motionless, but serene. She liked that face. She liked it when he looked at her, especially when he gave her that smile that wasn't really a smile. She had known people like him who had trouble expressing themselves. She knew genuine attempts at affection when she saw it and it didn't go unappreciated.

Secretly, she always wondered what a full, uninhibited smile from him would look like. Jazz's was absolutely contagious. Prowl's probably wouldn't be quite like that, but she decided it was probably beautiful. Her optics wandered unbidden to his mouth.

Crystal touched her own mouth as she remembered a few weeks ago when Sideswipe had suddenly kissed her right on Valentine's Day. It was clearly a joke, but she had to wonder if the red Autobot was just mimicking something he saw other humans do or if it was a practice in Cybertronian culture as well.

She had not been aware she had been leaning over him on her elbows until Ratchet and Perceptor rounded the corner. Crystal immediately sat herself back on her stool and tried to look like she hadn't let her mind wander.

"Okay," Ratchet told her, not seeming to have noticed. "Grab a corner. Let's wheel him over and hook him up."

Without attaching the missing chest armor, Perceptor plugged in a few wires to what Crystal recognized where some important processing systems. Most went into the chest, one plugged neatly into the side of his helmet without having to remove anything. The screen instantly relayed pages upon pages of information that looked like nothing but gibberish to Crystal. Perceptor, however, scrolled through them extremely fast and seemed to get all the information he was looking for.

"Everything looks in tact for the most part," Perceptor relayed his findings. "I see a few odd palpitations here and there, but that is most likely his internal systems offset by the shock. The best way to fix that is to reboot his systems and bring him online. We will let him recalibrate his internal clocks and processors on his own."

"Alright," Ratchet agreed as he helped Perceptor unplug the monitor from Prowl's systems. "Let's keep him open just in case."

“Hey, Crys,” Sunstreaker called as he wandered in rotating his arm. “This joint is giving me some problems. If you’re done with Prowl, can you take a look at it?

Crystal glanced back in Prowl’s direction. Ratchet and Perceptor were close to rebooting his system. Everything looked good and they didn’t need her help.

“Yeah, I can look at it. Hop up here.” She patted the table.

Sunstreaker jumped up and Crystal instantly saw her mistake. As tall as he was, plus him sitting on the table, his shoulder was well above her head and he was grinning.

“Alright Sunshine, change of plans.” She pulled up Ratchet’s chair he used at his desk and patted the seat.

Sunstreaker moved down and it was just the right height to work on his shoulder. Crystal grabbed the proper tools and then set about opening the protective armor covering the shoulder joint.

"You know, Crys, I like it when you do the detail work," Sunstreaker informed her. "You're careful not to chip my paint, unlike other medics."

She smiled to herself. "Ratchet is just trying to keep you humble, that's all."

Sunstreaker snorted. "Humility, what's that good for?"

Crystal smirked and got to work. She angled herself so she could keep an eye on what was going on with Prowl while she did the repairs. Ratchet was rebooting his systems while Perceptor observed. There was the familiar deep whir and clicks of the Autobot's system it powered on. Optics flickered on and it seemed almost as breath was inhaled into the body. But then, Crystal clearly saw it out of the corner of her optics, Prowl's entire body suddenly bowed off the examining table and then began to spasm.

She immediately stopped what she was doing and her tools clattered to the floor. Prowl let out an almost primal noise. It was filled with horror and a pain that went deeper than physical.

In a maddened state, he lashed out at the nearest thing. Ratchet, used to hardened warriors being jolted back into consciousness, dodged the attack and pulled a startled Perceptor out of the way. But when Prowl tried to make a dash off the bed, Ratchet had no choice but to put his personal safety on the line.

"Grab his other side!" he barked at Perceptor. "Try to hold him back!"

At the same time, Ratchet hit the emergency button above him on the wall. "I need help over here!"

Prowl's struggling was almost too much for both the Autobots trying to hold him down. Prowl wasn't the biggest Autobot, but he was quite strong and he clearly had a lot of energy running through him in his panic. Sunstreaker rushed from his seat to aid them. But even three Autobots were having a rough time of it. Ratchet kept trying to get a hold of the table restraints but Prowl was having none of that.

Crystal could only watch on in complete horror. She was frozen to her spot, listening to Prowl scream out in a voice that didn't even sound like his. All his cries were in Cybertronian. She had no idea what he was saying and she was terrified for him.

"What happened?" Ratchet called to Perceptor. "You said he was stable!"

"I thought he was!" Peceptor dodged a deadly swipe to his head and continued to try to hold Prowl's arm down. "How long has he been living with that battle computer?"

"Since early on in the war."

"A few millennia?!" Perceptor screeched over Prowl's cries. "Why didn't you tell me!?"

"Why didn't you ask?!" Ratchet snarled back. "How was I supposed to know the amount of time mattered?"

"That computer has been repressing emotions and memories for millions of years! Now it’s hitting him all at once! It's too much for him! How could you not know about this? Where is your research!?"

"I've been on another planet!"

At this time, Wheeljack and Brawn rushed in help hold down the flailing Prowl enough so he could be restrained. He was still screaming. The sight made Crystal's legs weak, yet she couldn't tear her gaze from him. Not until something tall and yellow stood in her way.

Crystal grabbed his arms and immediately tried to move him, but Sunstreaker held her back.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." He tried to steer her for the door.

"No," she protested. "I can't just leave!"

Sunstreaker grabbed her shoulders to make her look at him instead of the shocking scene behind him.

"Prowl wouldn't want you to see him this way. You're shaking. You need to leave." His tone was forceful and Crystal couldn't muster the strength to fight against it. Her heavy feet dragged over the floor, but Sunstreaker easily managed to get her out of the med bay.

Her body grew weaker the further they walked down the hall. The noise was still coming from behind. Since she couldn't be with him, all she wanted to do was block it out. It was killing her on the inside, even from there.

Optimus Prime was now running down the hall with Jazz at his tail. The Autobot leader raced past them to the med bay without slowing down. Jazz skidded on one foot as he went by when he saw Crystal. But Sunstreaker looked like he had things under control. Jazz would check on her later. Right now he had to be there for his friend.

Crystal couldn't remember how long it took her, but Sunstreaker had somehow steered her back to her room and led her inside. That was where he took her shoulders again and turned her to look her in the face.

"Hey, you okay?" Her blank expression worried him. "Primus, you are shaking so bad. Crys, talk to me. How do you feel?"

She forced herself to focus. "I...I think I'm alright, but I can't stop it." She folded her arms around herself in attempt to stop shivering, but it seemed to fill her whole body and she couldn't will it to be still.

"Come here, just sit for a while." Sunstreaker sat himself next to the open door way and pulled Crystal into his lap. She almost objected to the treatment, but the yellow Autobot drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around her, caging her in with his limbs and pulling her close. He held her tight against his chest as if trying to physically stop the shaking himself.

Once Crystal felt that strong pulse of his spark radiating through his chest, all resistance fell from her and she melted against it. She didn't know where her obsession with sparks came from, but something called her to them. The few exposed sparks she had seen in the med bay had mesmerized her. Even covered, she had a hard time staying away from them. Any Autobot unfortunate enough to be unconscious in the med bay got Crystal's attention. She would press her head to any chest given the opportunity.

She didn't know why, but it was as if her body craved the contact. Maybe it was her own lack of a steady beating in her body. She had a fuel pump, but it wasn't the same. Her body was used to feeling its own heart beat within itself and now, everyone else had something similar but her. Even without contact, she could feel them sometimes. It made he feel dead in contrast. She wanted to be next to that life power. Her whole being hungered for it.

When Sunstreaker gave her the opportunity to be held against his for as long as she wanted, she didn't waste it. Every spark sounded slightly different. Sunstreaker’s had a powerful, deep signature with a high pitched, impatient undertone. Crystal pressed her audial into the yellow chest and let that relaxing rhythm radiate through her whole body, calming her down. The shaking slowly began to subside and her optics flickered off as she was engulfed in the frequency.

Sunstreaker remained where he was, keeping a vigilant eye out the door to see if he could glean any information from what was going on down the next hallway.

Several minutes later, Sideswipe came into the room. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He stepped over Sideswipe's legs and sat himself next to his brother, leaning against his shoulder. Sunstreaker gave him a quick glance before returning his vigil to the hall. He felt Crystal relax against him, possibly even drifting off to sleep. That was probably good for her. He continued to wait patiently where he was for any further news from the med bay.

* * *

It was finally quiet in the now crowded med bay, but no one was relaxing. Brawn still looked like he didn't dare remove his hands from Prowl even though the second in command had quit thrashing and was now as still as if he were back in stasis lock.

Unfortunately for him, however, stasis lock was not a luxury Prowl's condition could afford. Stasis would end his suffering, but it would also stop his systems from finishing the full reboot to recalibrate without his old battle computer. His systems had to stay online if they were to recover from this ordeal. Which meant Prowl had no choice but to suffer through all the backlash and no one could help him through it.

The only thing that could be done for him was to turn off all his motor relays so he couldn't accidentally hurt himself. Ratchet and Perceptor were in agreement. The best way to approach this was to put Prowl in a kind of semi sleep where his systems could still run their course but he was only partially conscious. While he still had to emotionally work through his past memories, he wouldn't be a physical danger to himself or others.

"So he's gonna be okay, right?" Jazz worried as he looked over his friend. Prowl's body was still, but his face was tense. "I can't do this job without him. Prowl's like my main man."

"Prowl's tougher than this," Ratchet nodded. "He'll get through it. But depending on how this reboot affects him and what exactly has been repressed in his memories, it may take him a bit of time. Right now, he feels stuck in that time before his battle computer. But when he wakes up, his internal clock will kick in and he was start placing all his memories back in the past and be able to put some distance between himself and those bombarding emotions."

"I suggest giving him a day or two off no matter the results," Perceptor joined in. "Prowl is very good at hiding his personal problems in order to tend to his responsibilities. Knowing him, he will insist he is stable enough to return to his position whether he is or not."

"Agreed," Optimus Prime said. "After seeing this display, Prowl isn't going to convince me otherwise. I'm giving him three day's leave when he wakes up. Jazz, I'm going to rely on you to help me enforce that."

Jazz grinned and saluted. "I'll do my best, Boss."

"Well, he's fine for now," Ratchet said, his voice slowing turning to that 'you can leave my med bay now' tone. "He just needs his own time to get used to it. I'll keep you informed, Prime, when he wakes up and what his current condition is. But right now, all we can do is wait until then."

Optimus nodded as Wheeljack and Brawn were already leaving.

"Can you let me know when he's close to coming out of it?" Jazz asked the medic. "I wanna be here, just in case something happens."

"That's a good idea. I'll radio you when it looks like he's almost finished recalibrating."

Satisfied, Jazz and Optimus left as well. The latter went back to what he had been supervising previously while Jazz took a detour to a small room down another hall.

He poked his head through the open door of Crystal's quarters to find both Lamborghini twins inside with Crystal still in Sunstreaker's protective hold. At his appearance, the brothers looked up at Jazz as if expecting some orders. But all he did was give them the "OK" signal and a smile and went on his way. They had done good. Jazz didn't have to worry about anything here.

* * *

Outside the Ark, angry clouds gathered in the sky to release one of the many spring rainstorms Oregon routinely received. On a grassy hill overlooking the Ark, Smokescreen sat as he cleaned his energy weapon. He made no notice of the storm only minutes away as he worked over his task. An Autobot as gray as the clouds climbed the hill toward him and Smokescreen paid no mind to him either.

"Hey,” Bluestreak greeted as he sat down next to the blue Datsun.

He got hardly more than a grunt in response. Smokescreen was busy assembling the newly cleaned parts of his rifle.

"Did you hear about Prowl?" Bluestreak continued conversationally. "He almost got his spark fried, but it was just his battle computer that got the hit. I heard he had a hard time with it when it was removed, but Ratchet says he should wake up soon."

"I know," was the short response.

Bluestreak waited for more. When it never came, he spoke again.

"Do you want to go by the med bay later and see how he's doing?"

No response.

"Ratchet says he still might be out for a while, but I think he would appreciate it if we came by to check on him. Maybe he'll even wake up while—"

"Bluestreak," Smokescreen interrupted with an authoritive voice. "If I were you, I'd get my gray aft off this hill right now before the storm hits. You don't want to be caught in the middle of it."

Bluestreak paused for a second and then looked skyward. "Yeah, it looks like it might be a bad one. We should both go in. Don't want to get caught in that mess."

Smokescreen slid the last piece of his weapon in place before leveling a look at the other Autobot.

"That's not the storm I'm talking about. And you'll want to get far away from me when it happens."

Bluestreak stared owlishly at him. "Why? What's going to happen?"

Smokescreen stared seriously at the entrance to the Ark.

"I'm going to get what's been coming to me for a long time."

* * *

The med bay was quiet, save for a few clicks from equipment here and there and the shuffling of Ratchet in the back corner as he organized his tools after a long day. Prowl's body was still as he lay on the examining table. His optics were on, but they glowed faintly as if he were trapped in some trance. He hadn’t moved for over an hour and Ratchet had estimated another two hours at least before he would show signs of life. That was why, when Prowl's fingers started to twitch, Ratchet wasn't around to notice.

It was only by chance the medic went looking in search of some items that he happened upon the examining table where his patient was supposed to be resting. Somehow, Prowl had managed to get out of the safety straps without a sound. The second in command was gone.

* * *

Still nestled by the doorway inside Crystal's room, Sunstreaker gazed lazily out in the hall. Normally, he got a little antsy if he was stuck in one place for too long. But it was warm and comfortable. Crystal was curled up on his lap, her audial practically glued to his chest. She hadn't stirred for quite some time. He assumed she was sleeping. Sideswipe was dead weight against his shoulder. His brother had slipped into light recharge without anything else to do.

Sunstreaker was fading himself. His optics flickered in and out before he finally succumbed and let his systems switch off.

"Prowl?"

It was Crystal's voice and Sunstreaker stirred as she wriggled out of his arms and crawled toward the door. Apparently she hadn't been sleeping after all. She peered down the hall on hands and knees, but there was nothing there.

"What's up, Crys?" Sunstreaker asked lethargically. He shifted and stretched, causing Sideswipe to fall over. His head hit the floor, waking him up.

"I thought I saw Prowl pass by," Crystal said as she got to her feet. "But he went by so fast."

Sunstreaker didn't look too keen on getting up. "You were probably sleeping and just imagined it."

"I'm going down to the med bay just in case."

"Hold on." Sunstreaker lunged to his knees and grabbed her wrist to stop her from going. After what happened earlier, he wanted to make sure all was well in the med bay before he let Crystal loose. "Let me radio down there first to see what's going on."

"Ratchet here," came an instant, but slightly agitated response.

"Hey, it's Sunstreaker. Just wanted to check, how's Prowl doing?"

"At this point, your guess is as good as mine. The slagger's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?!"

Crystal yanked herself from his grip and ran off in the direction she thought he went.

"Crys! Wait!" Sunstreaker called, but she wasn't listening. "Great," he grumbled as he got to his feet.

Sideswipe was now curled up on the floor, oblivious to what was going on. Sunstreaker grabbed the frame behind his neck and pulled him to his feet. Sideswipe looked at him sluggishly, his systems still trying to get back to full speed.

"Wuh...? Streak?"

Sunstreaker slightly slapped him on the cheek to get his attention. "Wake up, Swipe. We've got a situation."

* * *

Prowl had always been an overachiever. It was in his nature. And he certainly wasn't interested in waiting on Ratchet's time table to be up and about. He had things to do.

While in his sleep-like state, Prowl had been trapped in a rush of memories and emotions. All the difficult times in his past that he had tried to put behind him for so long. For a while, he felt overwhelmed by the fear and grief and desperation that came with his early war experiences. But there was one emotion shoved deep down that now fought to push past all the others. It was that emotion that forced his systems into consciousness. Now Prowl remembered what he had forgotten for so long.

He had forgotten that he was really, really pissed off.

The second he came online, he knew exactly where to direct his anger and he stalked after a particular energy signature with barely suppressed rage. Swiftly and silently, Prowl followed the trail outside. Thunder rolled as he stepped onto the grass and his burning optics swept over the landscape. He moved forward and an energy weapon fired at his feet, forbidding his advance.

"Stay right there, Prowl," Smokescreen warned from his place at the hilltop. "You're not thinking clearly. You need to calm down."

Prowl scowled in return. He was still missing his chest armor. All the black, exposed wires made him a grotesque sight. Above them, the thunder snapped and a light drizzle of rain fell upon the two brothers.

"No, Smokescreen, for the first time I am seeing very clearly," Prowl growled back. "And you have a lot to answer for."

"I don't owe you explanations, Prowl. Everything I did was for your benefit."

Lightning cracked in the distance.

"You expect me to believe that?" Prowl shot back as he took a step forward. "After you've left me in the dark for so long? It was more convenient for you just to let me forget, wasn't it?"

"You needed that battle computer!" Smokescreen brandished his weapon as Prowl tried to approach, but didn't fire. "You couldn't function without it!”

By that time, Crystal had run out of the base with the twins at her heels. She paused when she noticed Prowl's back. Sunstreaker noticed him, too, but he also noticed Smokescreen with a rifle in his hands. He grabbed her before she could run towards the danger.

"Hold on Crys, we don't know what's going on. Stay here.”

"And who's fault was it that I couldn't function after what you put me through?" Prowl shouted back. "My first waking moments of life were filled with fire and violence. And then you drag me all over creation searching for...monsters and phantoms!"

"Don't you say that was wrong! Our creator was out there! Just because you never met him—"

"And you let Nightshade die," Prowl growled.

Smokescreen lowered his weapon, a mirthless smirk on his face. "There it is. That's the real issue, isn't it? Stop pretending it's all these other things."

"You told her to get on that ship." Prowl stalked slowly up the hill. "It's your fault she's dead. You should have stopped her."

"It's what she wanted." Smokescreen circled the hillside, staying out of Prowl's reach. He still had his weapon, but it stayed at his side. "What do you know about it, Prowl? You weren't even there."

"That's because you didn't tell me!” Prowl’s engine roared with his voice. “If I had known I would have gone with her! I would have protected her! And if anyone had hurt her I would have made them pay. But you.” His voice became full of disgust. “You didn’t even pay your respects before you were off again. You didn’t care at all.”

A shutter of sudden anger went through Smokescreen's body and he lifted his rifle to his shoulder.

"She wasn't yours, you stupid, self-righteous glitch-head! She was mine to protect! Mine to mourn! And mine to take vengeance for! You need to let it go!"

Prowl ignored the weapon aimed right at him. His voice was low and dangerous. "How can I when you won't do any of those things? You could have at least left me with her memory, but you robbed me of even that.”

Prowl looked like he would spring and Smokescreen fired another warning shot to keep him back. This one nearly grazed the side of his helmet, but Prowl didn’t even flinch. His anger left him beyond caring at this point.

“You left me no choice, Prowl,” Smokescreen growled behind the rifle. “I had to do something. You let her death consume you. I couldn’t let you throw your future away. I was thinking of you.”

Prowl’s sneer etched itself deeper on his face. “All you think about is yourself."

The rifle lowered in bafflement, then anger swept in. "Alright, that's it, Prowl!" Smokescreen threw his weapon far behind him and beckoned his brother. "If you're spoiling to fight, then let's have it. Come get a piece of me, if you can."

The rain was coming down harder now, making the slope slippery. Without the chest piece of his alt mode, Prowl couldn't transform. But that didn't stop him from making short work of the hill and practically launching himself at his older brother. Smokescreen caught the assault and both rolled down the other slide of the slope, tearing up the ground as they went.

Crystal's gasp was drowned in another clap of thunder when she saw the two Autobots explode at each other.

"Prowl!" It wasn't her voice, but Bluestreak's as he tore out of the Ark to join the fight.

"Swipe! Grab him!" Sunstreaker ordered.

With his longer legs, Sideswipe caught Bluestreak before he could transform and tackled him to the ground.

"Let go, Sideswipe! I have to help!" the gray Autobot complained.

"Sorry Blue, you don't want to get in the middle of that, trust me," Sideswipe said.

Crystal watched the fight dumbly. Sunstreaker had an arm over the front of her shoulders, but she wasn't trying to get away. She knew better than to get in the middle of that. She had seen many fights in her life, but they had always been inside a ring. This was something completely different.

This was an anger-driven melee. There was no prize to win. Each Autobot was only bent on pummeling their frustrations out of the other. That was all. As bad as it looked with the two punching and kicking at each other and rolling around in the mud, there weren't any lives on the line. Smokescreen could have ended it easily with Prowl's open chest. All he had to do was reach in and start yanking wires and Prowl would be down. But that wasn't the point of this match. There was something deeper going on.

Prowl managed to roll on top and jabbed his knee into Smokescreen’s side before landing punch after punch to his face.

“You made me forget so you wouldn’t have to deal with me and your own guilt!” he accused.

Smokescreen snarled and kicked him off, sending Prowl sliding several feet.

“I had to make you forget so you could do your job! You had the potential to become a top ranking Autobot. I knew no one could save more lives than you could. You know it, too. You’re just too angry to admit it because no matter what you did, no matter how much better than me you thought you were, she chose me over you and you couldn’t handle it.”

Prowl was shaking in rage down to his door tips. “You didn’t love her!”

Murder suddenly flashed in Smokescreen’s optics. He let out a feral cry and charged. Prowl was ready, usually rage driven charges like this were easy to get the best of. But Smokescreen was quicker this time. After all, Prowl had to learn his fighting prowess from somewhere. He was on his back before he realized it. His optics were wide in shock as Smokescreen’s fingers closed around his neck. He had never heard his brother’s voice so emotionally charged, so dangerous before.

“Don’t you tell me what I don’t love,” he growled.

Before another blow could take place, both Autobots were forcefully yanked off the ground and away from each other. Prowl dangled from Optimus Prime's grip while Grimlock had Smokescreen. Though the two were so covered in mud it was hard to tell which one was which.

"I think you two are quite finished," Optimus Prime barked at them. He did not sound pleased at all. He tossed Prowl at Snarl and pointed towards the Ark. "Put them in the brig. In separate cells. I will have a talk with them later."

"Humph, me Grimlock think that best fight me see all year."

"In the brig, Grimlock."

"Fine. Me go."

Neither Datsun put up a fight. Smokescreen looked weary, engine still growling from exertion, but didn't try anything more. Prowl's body had lost all its fight. He just stood there, almost like he would flop to the floor at any moment. Whether it was from the fight or as a result of all he had been through that day, he was done.

All the other Autobots who had wandered outside due to the sounds of the tussle gave them a wide berth as the Dinobots ceremoniously escorted the two offending Autobots inside.

Optimus Prime walked out to retrieve Smokescreen's discarded energy rifle before trudging in himself.

"I trust no one else was hurt or involved?" he asked the loitering crowd.

Everyone shook their heads.

"Good. Everyone back to work. It's over now."

Crystal was actually one of the first to march back inside and attend to her own business.

* * *

Down in the brig, Smokescreen and Prowl were left alone in cells next to each other with bars on the front and thick concrete walls between them. Smokescreen sat silently, dripping mud from every part of him, staring at the floor. Prowl was doing the same for all he knew. He couldn't hear a sound coming from the cell next to his. The wall prevented him seeing anything his younger brother was doing.

It was quiet in there. So quiet. Smokescreen usually liked it that way. But now, it was ringing in his optics, eating him alive. He had to say something.

"You know Prowl," he called out into the stillness. "It wasn't my goal to try to make you forget. I knew that wasn't fair. But you couldn't get a grip on anything after Nightshade was gone. I slaved my aft off trying to keep you in that Academy. I thought it would only be for a while until you could get yourself back together. But then...I got transferred."

He stamped his foot on the ground. "Those quack medics told me they'd take it out after a few solar cycles! But by the time I found out, you still had it in there. It was just easier to leave it that way."

Silence. Then...

"That's what you do, isn't it?" came the bitter response. "You always look for the easy way out."

Smokescreen smirked to himself. "Believe me Prowl, nothing about being related to you is easy."

There was no response from the other cell.

Smokescreen sighed. "I'm just sorry it took this long to get it out. Nightshade...I know she meant something to ya. It wasn't fair to take away the opportunity to remember her properly."

More silence.

Smokescreen shifted and leaned his head back to look at the ceiling. Maybe Prowl still wanted to lay into him some more. Maybe this would never end. It was then he noticed one of his optics had been split. It still worked, but there was a crack all the way through it. He reached up to touch it and then scowled when he smeared mud all over it instead, rendering the optic useless.

"I already miss that computer," came a soft voice.

Smokescreen leaned forward to hear it.

"Even before everything that happened, from my first day of life, I felt...incomplete. Like something important was missing. I always had this burn to seek out what I was missing, until that computer was installed. Then I didn't feel the urge to look for it any more. I felt more whole when I had it. And now...there's that hollowness inside me again."

Smokescreen smirked to himself as he leaned against the wall. "I've got news for you, Prowl. Everyone feels like that. We all feel like something's missing. That's life."

"I see."

"But you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. That's how I know He exists."

There was shifting from Prowl's cell. He must have moved closer to the bars because his voice was clearer now.

"He?"

"Primus, of course. Xion is our creator, no doubt. But he isn’t the only one. He may have built our bodies, but Primus," Smokescreen slapped his own muddy chest, “He makes what's in here, our sparks. And the fact that we come online with that hollow feeling is how I know Primus is really out there."

"I don't follow," said Prowl's voice.

"You know how meticulous about perfection Xion was, Prowl? He was even worse than you. He would slave and slave over everything he created until it was above and beyond the last thing he built. Everything he made had to be perfect and yet, look at us. Look at how we turned out.

"But that's how I know Primus is out there. If Xion had his way, our sparks would be beyond perfection. We would never want for anything. But Primus makes us incomplete on purpose. He gives us life with that hollowness so we will have the drive to search out and fill it up. When I have that urge to go out and find whatever it is he wants us to search for, I feel closer to Him and I know He's up there."

* * *

From his own cell, Prowl was quiet. Who would have guessed Smokescreen had the ability to wax so eloquent. Or so thought provoking.

“Can I ask you something personal, Prowl?”

Prowl steeled himself. He usually didn’t like the question when Smokescreen gave him prior notice.

“What?”

“That human. I know you were the one who ordered it. I know you started getting back your memories that night. Is that why you made her into one of us? You didn’t want to do it all again?”

Prowl felt a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with his injuries. “I don’t know. I want to say that’s not the reason, but...”

“It’s okay if it is, you know. You saved her life, Prowl. Life is always the right choice.”

“But if I did it just to make myself feel better...”

“That’s scrap and you know it, Prowl. I can’t think of a single thing you’ve done for just yourself. Hell, if you could save lives working in a slag pit I know you’d be the first one in there. That’s who you are. Believe me, I know. I’ve had to deal with that annoying quirk of yours my entire life.”

Prowl did not respond.

"So...do you forgive me?" Smokescreen then asked. "What happened on that ship wasn't anybody's fault. It was just...war. These things happen."

"I know," Prowl said softly. "I'm sorry I made so much trouble for you. And I’m sorry you lost her."

There was a heavy sigh that seemed to echo through the brig. "We both lost her, kid."

Smokescreen hadn't called him "kid" since Bluestreak came around. It certainly brought back memories. He was about to say something when there was a sudden whooshing sound from the next cell accompanied with much sputtering and swearing from Smokescreen.

When Prowl walked up to the bars to see what was going on, he got his turn to be blasted with a high power hose. He sputtered and stumbled back a few steps before the onslaught ceased.

Red Alert stood there, unimpressed with a dripping hose as the muddy water flowed down the drain in the middle of the floor.

"Now that you're somewhat presentable, Optimus Prime has ordered you go to the med bay, Prowl, to get put back together. After that, you will report back to the brig to wait out an as of yet undetermined length of time."

Prowl shook his shoulders, flicking water off his door panels. "Understood."

"And what about me?" Smokescreen asked as he stepped up to the bars.

"You shall have your turn in the med bay after Prowl," Red Alert replied. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was very displeased with both of them. "I will come back for you."

Prowl was paraded by the arm to the med bay. It made him feel like he was a misbehaving child being pulled along by the slightly shorter and much younger Red Alert. It was definitely a humbling experience all on its own. Once there, Ratchet gave him a similar disapproving look as he inspected Prowl's gaping chest. Prowl took it silently, knowing he deserved it.

"All this needs to be cleaned before we can put you back together," Ratchet informed him. Prowl still had muck caking much of his internal systems. "Go sit by the drain. Crystal!"

Prowl's optics widened a bit. "Perhaps that wouldn't be--"

"I said go sit," Ratchet barked, jabbing his finger in the direction of the drain in the floor.

Prowl reluctantly did was he was told and pulled up a stool.

Crystal poked her head in and reported directly to the head medic.

"Prowl's systems look a mess," Ratchet told her as he handed her a data pad. "Clean them up and report any injuries to me. Fix what you can and then come get me and we'll get his armor reattached."

"Yes, sir!"

Prowl avoided optic contact as Crystal came up to him and bent over to get a good look at the current state of his chest.

"Looks like someone already gave you a shower," she commented as she grabbed a few cleaning supplies. "I'm afraid you're going to need another when I'm done. There's still a lot of gunk in here."

Prowl just nodded a bit, but didn't say anything and made no attempt to meet her gaze. Smokescreen’s question played itself over in his head.

Crystal grabbed a bottle of solvent and began to systematically clean each circuit and wire. Prowl took the personal treatment with a slight air of discomfort, but suffered through it. She either didn't notice or chose to ignore it.

"So, you feel better now?" she asked after a while. "Now that you got a few good punches in?"

She was looking at his chest, not his face, but Prowl still looked away. He was ashamed he had let himself get so far out of control. No matter how long he had been holding those feelings in, it was no excuse to act that way. Especially for an Autobot of his status.

"I know I would feel better after getting a few good punches in on that Smokescreen," she added.

Prowl looked up at her and she smirked.

"Who wouldn't, right?"

Prowl relaxed a bit. "Who indeed."

"And hopefully, now that you two _boys_ got that out of your system, we won't have this problem again."

Prowl looked down once more. Even she had to put in a word or two to chastise his behavior. He deserved it.

Crystal went back to her work, flooding the soiled circuits with solvent bit by bit to clean them out and inspect them. It began to dribble down his front and onto the floor. He would indeed need to wash up after this.

"Looks good so far," Crystal told his open chest. "Looks like the two of you just wanted to get a few good face punches in. I don't see any damage."

Prowl was not sitting at the best height to do this job. Crystal had to keep alternating from standing to squatting to get the angle she wanted. Neither were preferred. Standing she was too tall and had to bend over. Squatting she was too short and had to reach up. But she did the best she could, secretly feeling grateful she didn't have back muscles that could get sore from it all.

Prowl sat in quiet reflection. It was the first time he was able to pick through all his past memories without being emotionally charged from it. The entire revelation of what he had remembered had hit him hard, but in a way, he had been remembering it since October when his battle computer first began to fritz.

Smokescreen was right. That night on Halloween when Ratchet had brought him back online after being reprogrammed by humans, his battle computer began to fail. When he came online, he had forgotten where and when he was and, for a moment, was trapped in a past that he had been forced to forget.

That night, during one of the biggest decisions he had ever had to make, Prowl let his emotions get the best of him. There was a femme in his past that had paid the ultimate price and he had not been there to help her. And he had loved her, whether she returned his affection or not.

He couldn't let someone else he cared about suffer the same fate when he was right there. He hadn't been able to protect Crystal that night when that bullet passed through her skull. He should have accepted it, but he refused to. No matter what Smokescreen said, it was his own selfishness that made him take her human body back to the Ark and demand a transplant.

It was his fault she was this way and if any unhappiness came of it, that was his fault as well.

Crystal make a surprised sound as she was suddenly pulled down to sit on his thigh. She looked at him for a moment, but then found the practicality of it.

"Oh, this is much better. Thanks."

She could easily clean out the mud now without having to stoop or crouch. But when she went to squirt more solvent on the soiled hardware, Prowl gently took the bottle from her hand, causing her to meet his optics. He looked at her as if he had never really taken a good look before. Maybe he hadn't been afforded that capability with the battle computer in play.

"Are you...happy here?" he asked her quietly.

Crystal broke his gaze so she could think seriously about the question.

"I am sometimes. But on the whole I feel...without direction. Unfulfilled. I mean, I try to keep myself busy and I feel I am being useful, but...I don't know, really."

Prowl nodded. He found it a bit difficult to hear that she was not completely happy, but that was what he liked about his relationship with her. Their mutual respect for each other that always demanded a truthful answer. As long as he had the truth, he could work with it.

"I'm sorry. I wish I knew what more to do for you. I wish you to be happy, but..."

Crystal put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. This right here is temporary. I have a new body coming and there will be new opportunities on Cybertron. I'm fine until then."

Pain laced Prowl's features as he pulled her in tighter and surprised Crystal by pressing his face to her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her metal skin. "I'm sorry you are stuck in this life. It's my fault. I lost someone...very dear to me once. That night you got hurt, that memory came back to me so vividly, I couldn't bear it again. But, I fear I have not done anything good for you."

Crystal sat there in silence for a while. She had been there during the fight. She had heard what both of them had said out in the rain. She didn’t plan on tell him how his revelations had made her feel if he wasn’t going to ask.

After he had a moment, she pulled back and smiled at him.

“It’s okay. Life, any life, isn't easy. But I'm treated well here and I love you, many of you, very much. Right now life might not be perfect, but we can work on that. And, if it's okay with you, I really didn’t plan on going anywhere without you."

There was a pull on the side of Prowl's mouth. A full smile was working its way in. Not a tight, guarded smile. A real one. Crystal was surprised to see it. She liked it very much.

"Yes," Prowl replied. He looked as though he had just had a giant weight lifted of his shoulders. "That would be okay with me."

**Close File #014 Incomplete: Prowl**


	15. Sugarcoated

**The Autobot Files**

**File #015 - Sugarcoated**

"Ooh, Crys! Check out some of these new sports car models! Sexy! You should take one of these!"

Crystal moved her gaze from her own screen to see what Sideswipe was looking at.

"You like those, huh?"

"Oh yeah. Just seeing one of those sleek cars makes my engine rev like--"

"Yeah, I don't think I'm in this to satisfy your fantasies, Sideswipe, but thanks for the suggestion."

The red Autobot just shrugged, unoffended. It took a lot to offend him. "Alright, just trying to help."

"What about you, Sunshine?" Crystal turned to Sunstreaker who was sitting on a stool next to her instead of surfing on one of the computer screens. "What do you think?"

She indicated to her own monitor. Sunstreaker slid off his stool and bent over it on his stomach to be closer to the level of the screen. On screen was the rough outline of the new body schematic Perceptor had been working on for Crystal. It was still extremely generic in design, but it was enough to play with for now. Sideswipe decided he could be helpful by pointing out all his favorite alt mode Earth designs. Crystal was only slightly paying attention to him. Her concern was trying out different color schemes on her new body.

"I kind of like this aqua color. Or maybe like a blue and yellow?"

She looked at Sunstreaker, hopeful for his opinion. The yellow Autobot frowned a little.

"What's wrong with your current colors?"

"Come on, Sunshine, pink? No thanks."

"But...you won't look like yourself."

"That's the idea." She turned her attention back at the computer. "I don't want to look like this any more."

Sunstreaker lowered his gaze to pick at the stool. "I don't think you look...that bad. I mean, I actually kind of like..."

"Alright all of you," Ratchet announced over them. "I need these screens to do my work. Make yourselves scarce." He leaned in before Crystal could get up. "And, if it matters, I like the aqua one."

"Thanks! It's nice to get a real opinion from someone," Crystal said pointedly.

Sideswipe shrugged while Sunstreaker frowned at the medic.

The trio made their way to the med bay exit. Standing in the doorway was Smokescreen.

"Hello," he greeted. "I was just wondering if--"

Sideswipe actually made a hissing sound at him before kicking the door shut in his face.

The twins spent quite a bit of time with Crystal and Prowl knew this. He had informed them earlier he didn't want his older brother anywhere near her. They had confirmed it with Crystal that she thought Smokescreen was making a pest of himself these days and she was sick of looking at him.

Smokescreen, unfortunately, shared that trait with Prowl of finding one thing and obsessing over it until he had his answer. After their first contact with the entity in the artillery closet, Smokescreen had not stopped pestering her for another session. Crystal wanted a break from it and from him. Luckily, she had two bodyguards who didn't mind helping the blue Autobot get the hint.

Even if that response to Smokescreen's presence was a bit much.

"Nice Sideswipe, now how are we going to get out?" Sunstreaker demanded. "We have to go through that door."

The red autobot slumped looking chastised. As she got to know him, Crystal decided Sideswipe was a lot like a puppy. His favorite thing to do was play around, but he was also very eager to please those he liked and was quick to give that lost puppy look when he wasn't given the praise he was searching for.

His downs never stayed down for that long though. Sideswipe quickly brightened again. He picked up Crystal and tossed her over his shoulder. She cried out in surprise and even Sunstreaker looked dubious.

"Streak, we're just gonna run out, okay? Don't stop for anything."

Sunstreaker shook his head but agreed, as he usually did.

The two burst from the door. Smokescreen watched, too stunned to react as they raced past him and down the hall. Crystal's cries echoed back to him as she barked at the twins to put her down.

Once they were a safe distance away, the two brothers fell into a good natured walk, feeling triumphant.

"Alright, bro! Did you see Smokie's face?" Sideswipe grinned, holding up his hand.

Sunstreaker gave him a high five. The run had instantly put him into a better mood.

Sideswipe still had his hand hanging, looking to high five something else. He looked over at Crystal's rear end bent over his shoulder and gave a wicked grin.

Sunstreaker caught his wrist just in time.

"Not a good idea," he warned.

"What? What are you doing?" Crystal demanded. "Put me down!"

"What are you two up to?" Tracks asked them as he turned the corner. He assessed the situation and then an amused smirk pulled at his mouth. "I dare say it's a little primeval to throw a femme over your shoulder and haul her back to your cave. Although... " His smirk went wider. "You are actually showing the world her good side."

"Ack!' Crystal struggled to cover her exposed backside. "Stop staring at my ass you pervert!"

"But it's your best feature," Tracks grinned.

"I have to agree with that one," Sideswipe put in.

"Put me down! Now!" Crystal demanded. She grabbed Sideswipe's waist, trying to get leverage enough to pull her legs from his grip.

"Ooop, oop, you're falling," Sideswipe teased as he let her head fall closer to the floor. He was suspending her by her calves now, but still not letting her go. Crystal tried to grab the ground with her finger tips, but there was nothing to hang onto. By now, all three mechs were laughing and she was not happy at all.

Foot steps were coming up the hall behind them, Crystal twisted, trying to see who it was.

"Mirage! Help me! These guys are all being idiots!"

The Autobot scout approached, wanting to help, but he was hesitant on what to do with his hands. He had no idea where would be a good place to grab her.

"Uh.. what do you want me to do?"

Crystal took the initiative and latched onto his leg. Mirage had no choice, he was committed to the rescue now.

Suddenly offended that she was going to another mech for help, Sunstreaker then stopped laughing and got in on it. He tried to offer his hand, but Crystal slapped him away.

"Back off, you weren't helping earlier," she snapped at him. "Just grab the waist, Mirage, I swear I won't scream rape."

"Better do it fast," Sideswipe teased. "I'm leaving...leaving now."

He began to move away which made Crystal hold onto Mirage tighter. The scout was finally getting up the nerve to grab her around the middle when Sunstreaker decided he would grab her instead. What resulted was a tug of war match with a lot of shouting and Tracks laughing at it all.

"What's going on here?" A very authoritive voice announced. It stopped Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Mirage in their tracks with Crystal suspended between them.

Optimus looked the situation over, arms crossed over his chest. "Is this an appropriate activity?"

Crystal shook her head, optics wide.

"We're just having fun, Prime," Sideswipe chirped cheerfully.

Graciously, the Autobot leader stepped in and removed her from the now pouting twins and a relieved Mirage. Optimus Prime seemed to have far more experience on how to appropriately handle a female and Crystal was grateful for it. The massive Autobot easily cradled her smaller form with just one arm while he held his palm out to his troops.

"Stay," he ordered. Then he promptly turned and walked down the hall to find a safe place to set her down.

While Optimus was not pleased his assistance had been required, he supposed he should be grateful that was the only time he had to intervene. He suddenly missed Elita One. When there had been quite a few younger femmes on the base, she and Chromia were excellent about making sure the horse play didn't get out of hand. Whether or not Crystal agreed, Optimus' plan was to put her under Elita's charge when they brought her to Cybertron. Elita could do a much better job than he of watching out for her and teaching her the social norms of a female Autobot.

"Thanks for the save, Optimus Prime," Crystal told him. “I owe you."

Optimus looked down at her.

"I believe we've had this conversation before, but you do not have to address me by my full title. Just Prime is fine."

"But.... but you're OPTIMUS PRIME. You're like this magnanimous presence."

"Just stay away from that group for a while until they calm down."

Crystal saluted. "No problem, Optimus Prime. I have to go see the Dinobots now anyway."

Optimus looked at her. "Is that really an improvement in company?"

She grinned. "Believe it or not, it kind of is."

* * *

It was time to give the Dinobots their monthly examination. Crystal now insisted they adhere to a schedule for cleaning and maintenance, but they were nowhere in the base. It was nearly April now and all the snow had melted with the coming of the spring rains. It had been drizzling on and off for a few days and everything was as muddy as could be. There wasn't a single Autobot who could go out on patrol without having to rinse in the showers when they returned. Crystal insisted on it. Now that she was keeping up the base, there would be no mud tracked inside or you had to clean it.

For the most part, the Autobots liked keeping clean anyway. Save for a few adventurous sparks like Hound and Trailbreaker. But even they hated getting stuck when the muck got too much. For the Dinobots, however, this was their ideal weather. They had their favorite mud hole where they liked to get really dirty during a good rain. That was where Crystal found them.

"I thought we had an appointment, you guys," she informed them, hands on her hips. It was still drizzling outside. Her armor was already dripping. But neither the water nor the cold bothered her.

"Is good weather for mud bath," Grimlock informed her. "Weather not wait for appointment. Plus you Crystal get mad at Dinobots if we do mud bath after appointment."

"That's true," she had to admit. "What is it with you guys and the mud anyway?"

"It fun!" Sludge insisted.

"Not fun like fighting Decepticons," Slag clarified. "But fun enough."

Crystal shook her head, wondering how robots from another planet managed to build dinosaur robots with animal instincts. The world may never know.

"Come in," Sludge encouraged. He circled his long neck around her to urge her in. "Come play."

Crystal made a face at the mud hole. She had seen what the Dinobots looked like from the inside after something like that.

"Uh, I’m afraid I'll have to pass."

"Why?" Grimlock demanded, tail swishing and flicking mud. "You think too good for Dinobots? Or you think we lie and it not fun?"

Crystal slumped her shoulders. It was so hard to deal with Grimlock when he got that way.

"Fine. I'll try it for a little bit. Just don't roll on me or anything."

She suddenly had a horrible image flash through her thoughts of being steamrolled by a large Dinobot body. A human would never survive. But what would happen to her? She would be pressed into the mud and left there until she petrified and some scientist would dig her up a million years later. But Crystal wouldn't be dead, she would only be crazy from being buried in the mud for all that time.

That stray thought stole a bit of her courage and Crystal only waded in up to her ankles.

"Man, I hope Ratchet doesn't get bent out of shape over this," she mumbled to herself. She was just trying to stay on the good side of the Dinobots. She couldn't be faulted for that.

Once in enough to cover her feet, Crystal slowly sat herself in the mud, being watched by five expectant Dinobots. Once her backside sank in, she realized what a stupid thing she just did. Now, if she stood up, she would have muddy feet and a muddy butt. There wasn't an Autobot on that base that wouldn't notice that.

Her "best feature" Tracks had called it. That pervert. What was up with him anyway? He always skulked around and then insulted or made fun of her. Why was he such a jerk? She didn't recall doing anything to him. Her frown etched deeper as she sat in the mud.

"You no like?" Sludge worried as he crouched next to her.

A long head suddenly popped out of nowhere from the mud.

"Need to get in more!" Swoop squawked and flapped mud all over the place. There wasn't a place on his body he wasn't covered. Crystal jumped back. She had not seen him in there.

"I don't know if I need to get that covered."

Slag growled. "She no fun." He turned fully around to do something else.

The action whipped his tail around and effectively whacked Crystal in the back of the head. Her face went solidly into the mud, soiled rear end in the air. She sputtered and struggled for several seconds. Her face hit the ground so hard the mud just sucked it in and would not let go.

She was finally able to let out a scream when a large hand yanked her out.

"I can't see!" she cried, viciously wiping at her optics.

"Me Grimlock help," said the owner of the hands.

Crystal felt herself thrust towards the ground again where she was bodily swished around in some water. Then she was lifted back out, dripping and slightly cleaner. She again attempted to wipe away the mud from her optics, hopefully before she was given another dip. It helped slightly, but without clean water or a cloth, her vision was hazy.

"Hey there, looks like you're having fun."

Crystal tried to get a good look at who was calling her from below. Though she already knew the voice.

"Hey Jazz, what's going on?"

He grinned "Nothing much, just saw you over here and wondered if you needed a knight in shining armor to come save you from the dragons."

"Not dragons!" Grimlock barked. "Dinobots! And not need saving. Me Grimlock make sure her Crystal fine."

Crystal peered at Jazz through the haze of her muddy vision. "Besides, looks like this knight's armor could use some spit and polish himself."

Jazz looked down at his own body caked with mud. "Heh, was out on patrol with Hound. It's slippery out there."

Swoop hopped out of the mud, covered from beak to tail. "Jazz play with Dinobots?"

The second in command took a step back. "Uh, normally I wouldn't mind, but too much mud makes Jazz a slow Autobot." He rolled the wheel on the side of his foot to show Swoop how badly the mud stopped it from turning. "If I'm gonna race any Decepticons today, I gotta go get cleaned up."

"Hmm...Jazz stay ready to fight Decepticons," Snarl approved. "Is good warrior."

"Dinobots no need clean to fight," Grimlock reasoned. "Can fight Decepticons anytime."

"Makes you a better bot than I am," Jazz agreed. "Now about your lovely assistant. We certainly don't want our only eye candy looking like that, do we?"

Crystal smirked. She already knew she looked like Quasimodo compared to real Autobot females.

"Har har, Jazz."

Nevertheless, Gimlock's hold on her changed as if he was suddenly reminded of what he was carrying. Instead of manhandling her like a rag doll, he slowly lowered her as if she were made of china.

"Her Crystal just try to keep Dinobots happy. Me Grimlock sometimes forget."

She waved him off. "No worries I don't mind. In fact, I like--"

Jazz took her face in his hands, making her forget what she was saying.

"They didn't even give you any optic shields, huh? Looks like you and I got the same problem." He rubbed at her optics with his thumbs. "I get mud on my optic band and I'm flying in the dark, too."

It helped a little. But metal fingers weren't much help cleaning glass. Crystal didn't care for the sensation of Jazz's metal fingers in her optics. Her human instincts jerked away from it.

"It's fine, I'll clean them in a second." She bent back from her grip and turned to address the Dinobots. "I still want to give you guys a maintenance check up today. You make sure you go rinse in the river REALLY good before you come see me. Clear?"

There were mumbles from the general group.

"Me Grimlock make sure," their leader insisted.

Crystal nodded her satisfaction and joined Jazz to walk back to the Ark and toward the wash wracks. Cliffjumper was already in there, cleaning up after one of his own patrols. He was nearly finished, shining his spokes when he looked up to see who was coming in and gave Jazz a cheeky grin.

"You two got pretty dirty out there, didn't you?"

At first, Jazz grinned at the question but then instantly frowned when he caught the obvious double meaning.

"Have a good time rolling around in the mud, Jazz?" he added in a quieter voice. "It looks like you did."

Crystal had already moved on to get to cleaned up.

"This is completely unrelated," Jazz insisted, motioning to both Crystal and himself.

Cliffjumper glanced over to where Crystal was now bent over, washing her face. "I'll bet it is."

"Out," Jazz demanded of the smaller Autobot.

Cliffjumper took his time getting up and sauntering proudly out the door. Jazz slammed it shut behind him. Cocky mini bot. He didn't know what he was talking about.

"I'll leave a towel on the door so no one disturbs you," Cliffjumper sang from the other side.

This time, Jazz didn't respond. Let him think what he wanted. At least he was the one sharing the wash wracks with her instead of certain other Autobots he didn't quite trust in that situation.

Crystal stood with her back under the shower head. Her arm was opened up to the joint. She never had mud in her inner workings before. The sensation was gritty, but not painful. She wanted to feel it in her finger joints a little longer before cleaning it out.

Jazz turned on the shower next to hers and braced himself against the wall before dunking himself none too gracefully under the solvent. He let it run down the nose of his chest armor and then rinse off this back. He tried to keep his attentions to the wall, but his gaze kept wandering back to the smaller figure beside him.

The solvent was hot and steam was filling the room. Crystal had her hands in the shower now, feeling how the solvent slipped through her finger joints and ate up all the dirt inside. She was still muddy everywhere else. He could help her with that if she wanted. There was something fun about putting his hands on something smaller, more feminine...

Jazz shook himself. What was he thinking? He needed to get out of there and put some distance between them. That seemed like the proper thing to do.

"Where are you going?" Crystal asked when Jazz started to walk away. She was now standing with her back in the shower. "You're not even done." She nodded to the wheel's at Jazz's feet still so caked with mud they hardly turned.

He gave a sheepish grin after looking at his feet. "Heh, you got me there. I guess I wasn't thinking."

He sat himself on a bench to hurry and take care of the problem.

"Turn around," Crystal ordered playfully. "I'd like at least a little bit of privacy."

She had gotten used to using the wash racks with the other Autobots around. After all, it wasn't like any of them were naked. Or were capable of being so. But that didn't mean she wanted an audience when she scrubbed all the mud of her rear end.

Jazz smiled to himself as he politely rotated to face the wall. Then he set about the difficult task of trying to clean his spokes. Even as a robot, it wasn't easy to reach the back of the outside of his feet. Even his joints didn't bend that way.

"Here, I got it," Crystal said as she took a bucket over to the faucet. "Put your leg up."

Jazz propped the first foot up on the bench and Crystal set about opening the correct panels to get better access. She had a sponge in her bucket and began scrubbing out all the muck in those very hard to reach places.

"Okay. Next one."

Jazz obeyed and alternated his other foot on the bench.

As she worked, Crystal paused when she felt another wet sponge run down her arm.

"You're still muddy, too," Jazz explained.

"Oh? And are you going to help me with that?"

A smile tugged on the side of his mouth. "If you like."

Crystal spun the tire on his heel. It turned beautifully now.

"You could use some extra scrubbing yourself," she informed him as she got up. "Come here."

She pulled him towards the shower and turned it back on. Before Jazz could comment, she was already taking a sponge to his back and dutifully scrubbing at the places he couldn't reach. Jazz stiffened at her rough scrubbing. This wasn't quite how he imagined it.

"I think you need to spend more time out of the med bay. You're getting too good at bossing everyone around and just pushing them on through."

Crystal paused. "You think so? I guess I have gotten too into the work routine. I don't do much else."

"I noticed. You're like Prowl. You try to keep yourself busy so you don't have to think about other things.

Crystal got quiet at the mention of Prowl. She went back to scrubbing, but it was softer now. She took her time to clean the inner workings beneath the hood on Jazz's back. He didn't have any mud there, but that area didn't get cleaned much because it was hard to reach. Crystal made sure to give it special attention.

She paused and pulled back when she heard a familiar, pleasant rumbling of Jazz's engine.

"You like that, do you?" she grinned.

Jazz returned it. "Certainly can't complain when being pampered by a lovely lady like yourself."

Crystal shook her head. "You and your purring. It just makes me laugh."

He turned and took the sponge from her. "Can I return the favor now?"

Crystal had an amused grin on her face. "I don't think I'm capable of purring."

Jazz loomed over her. Playful, grinning. "I'll find out for myself, thanks."

"Alright." She turned and presented her back to him.

Jazz started at her shoulders and very lightly scrubbed his way down, careful not to push too hard.

"After this, then can we wash each other's fronts?"

Crystal threw him a look. "You are just awful sometimes."

Jazz was about to respond with something cheeky when a sponge was shoved in his face.

"We're going to have to wash that whole dirty processor out," Crystal sang.

Jazz sputtered and tried to move his face out of the way without using physical force, but it wasn't working. Crystal wasn't backing down. He had no choice but to bodily pin her to the wall so he could get a hold of her arm to stop the assault.

Crystal was still laughing. It took a few moments for her to settle down.

"So you think since you're small I'll just let you get away with doing whatever you want, huh?" Jazz challenged.

"You know you like it," she shot back with a grin.

Jazz grinned back, plotting his next move. But Crystal beat him to it.

"So why don't you ever come see me?" She suddenly put on a serious face. “If I want to see you, I always have to hunt you down."

Jazz was a bit surprised by that question. He didn't back up, but he did go on the defense despite the fact that he was the one pinning her to the wall.

"Well, ya know...been kinda busy with work and all..."

"Uh huh." Crystal sounded extremely unconvinced.

"Hey, I DO have things to do, you know," Jazz defended.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that, Jazz. But I'm also aware you have a talent for making time for things that are important to you. So what is that supposed to mean to me when you start disappearing?"

Jazz frowned at her. "Primus, you really want to bust my ball bearings today, don't you? You are important to me, Crys. I would love to come around, but...what about Prowl?"

Crystal tipped her head, confused as to where the conversation was heading. "Prowl? What about Prowl?"

Jazz looked down. "Well, you know with all that he's been through lately...you've been good for him. You've been helping him get through it."

"So you've been staying away...because of Prowl?" Crystal clarified. "Oh no, I don't accept that at all."

Jazz raised his head again, uncertain of her tone.

"You know I love Prowl," Crystal continued. "But he's been projecting this...other female, this other experience on me since day one. And now I'm his emotional crutch while he tries to come to terms with it. I don't mind being there for him, but this idea that I can't see anyone else so I can be available to him is ridiculous. I also find it ridiculous that everyone seems to think it's my job to try and fix this problem he and his obnoxious brother created for themselves. No thank you."

Jazz finally moved away and let her go, feeling a bit chastised on behalf of Prowl and Smokescreen.

"Hey." Crystal grabbed his arm to pull him back. She put both hands on his face to keep his attention. "I mean it, I want to see you more." Her smile returned. "You're one of my favorites, you know."

Jazz grinned back. He knew these days he was in competition with quite a few Autobots for that title, but he still liked to hear it. He leaned into her again, resting a fist above her head so he could lean his forehead on it. Now he was boxing her in in a completely different way and it changed the atmosphere in the room.

"So when is he best time to come by? Do you prefer me during the day? Or..." He moved in even closer. "Do you prefer me after dark?"

Crystal laughed, delighted. She loved their bouts of innuendo they got into. She missed that. It really was a great way to let loose, have fun, and forget to be serious for a while. Truthfully, there wasn't an Autobot on the base that made her happier to be around. She needed to be able to just joke around with someone without worrying about anything else. That was why she needed him.

And maybe, though she tried to ignore it, all the silly comments weren't completely in jest. That was the most fun of all.

A deep clearing of the throat got their attention. Smokescreen stood in the doorway, watching them. Jazz was suddenly nowhere near her as if he had been chased away. For whatever reason, that really annoyed Crystal. Especially when Jazz quickly excused himself to get back to work and all but fled the washroom under Smokescreen's judgmental gaze.

Since when did Smokescreen dictate what Jazz did? Crystal hoped it wasn't all somehow still related to Prowl, but she had a feeling that it was.

"What do _you_ want?" she demanded as she stalked up to him. "Don't you ever get tired of poking your nose in my business?"

"Not at all," he replied smoothly as if it were everyday conversation. "I was just wondering if this was how you enjoyed spending your free time when no one is watching."

Crystal didn't think that comment was worth a response and moved passed him down the hall. Smokescreen was quick to follow.

"Are you in love with him?"

Crystal almost stumbled at the question. The idea had never even entered her mind. It felt like such a foreign concept to her. And of all Autobots whose business it was, Smokescreen was the lowest on that list.

Since he was not getting any response, Smokescreen decided to change his tactics and come after what he really wanted.

"I just thought I'd drop by to find out when you wanted to visit the artillery room in the back again."

"I'm afraid I do not have any such plans in the near future," Crystal replied curtly, picking up the pace.

With Smokescreen's bulk, despite him being about the same height, he had to work to keep up with her.

"What do you mean? We have work to finish," he insisted.

Crystal stopped on her heels and Smokescreen almost ran into her. She spun around, optics flashing.

"Listen to me, there is no 'we'. There is just you and your stupid obsessions. And I don't want to be a part of them."

She turned to go and he gave chase again, now following her outside the Ark.

"Why are you walking away from this?" Smokescreen pressed. "You were there. That spark indicated it believed something bad would happen to Cybertron. Don't you care?"

"Just because some robot who died four million years ago thinks something is _still_ going to happen doesn't mean he's right," Crystal shot back.

"But don't you want to know?" Smokescreen's voice rose higher with passion. "Come on, Crys, I can't do this without you. Believe me, I've tried."

She spun on him again, hands on hips. "Yeah, you don't have permission to call me that. And this kind of thing is not something I like to talk about that much, okay? I need break from it."

"Fine. Let's talk about you and Jazz then."

Crystal looked skyward, shoulders slumping. "Why? Why do you keep asking me these questions? I don't ask you about your personal life!"

Smokescreen stopped and opened his arms to her. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

Crystal sighed. "I don't want to know any—fine. Why are you so insistent on talking to this dead Decepticon? He's your enemy. What makes you think anything you find from him will be good information?"

He gave her one of those boyish lopsided grins he had. Crystal had once tried to picture Prowl give that look. She couldn't imagine it.

"This Decepticon died in a ship that we used to build the Ark," Smokescreen informed her. "I researched this vessel. It's old. We're talking dawn of the war old. Decepticons back then were different from how they are now. Back then, being a Decepticon meant one main thing: that you had a fierce pride for Cybertron and you weren't afraid to show that to the rest of the galaxy. So this thing that spark referred to, this threat was real to Cybertron at one time and as a Decepticon of that time period, he would go to any lengths to stop it. And even if it’s not a threat now, I want to know."

Crystal shook her head as she flopped down on her favorite spot at the base of the volcano. Being around Smokescreen was tiring. He sure had a lot of vigor in him for an Autobot that was supposed to be so old.

"How old are you anyway?" she suddenly asked. "Bluestreak said you're older than a lot of the Autobots here, but you certainly don't look like it to me. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that Prowl was your older brother by the way you two act together."

Smokescreen sat himself next to her, rubbing the back of his neck. "Heh, yeah. Prowl had to do a lot of growing up in a short amount of time. I'm afraid a lot of that was my fault."

"So what's your secret then?" Crystal wondered, genuinely curious. "What keeps you young?"

Smokescreen looked thoughtful for a moment and then leaned back on his palms to look up at the sky.

"There is a man in your Earth history named Juan Ponce De Leon, are you familiar with this name?"

Crystal, who had never had good grades in history, shook her head.

"Really now, your planet is hardly that old, you should know your history."

"Yeah, your history is easier because it's the same names over and over because you all stay the same," Crystal shot back.

"True," Smokescreen relented. "At any rate, this human spent a good part of his adult life time looking for the fountain of youth. He fought and bled and died for this mystical thing, but never found it. At the end of his days he looked years older than he was. The search to become young had done quite the opposite to him."

Crystal tipped her head at him, not sure what he was getting at.

"You see, he didn't know the secret," Smokescreen explained in a cryptic voice.

"The secret of...?" Crystal fished.

"Of the search," Smokescreen responded with a certain glint in his optics. "It isn't the fountain that keeps you young, it's the adventure of looking for it."

Crystal looked thoughtful. "I see. So that's what drives you, the search, huh?"

"Of course, it isn't for anyone," he said as he leaned back. "My first search was looking for our creator who disappeared. Prowl didn't handle it very well."

"Did you ever find him?"

His door panels seemed to wilt a little. "No, we didn’t."

Crystal pulled her knees up to her chest. "Have you stopped searching?"

"Nope."

"Well, I hope you find him someday."

Smokescreen gave her a lopsided smile. "Heh, me, too, kid. Me, too."

* * *

Dr. Fujiyama paced back and forth as he waited for the train. It was carrying very precious cargo, his life's work. His Nightbird.

Twenty years ago it- she- had been his biggest success and also his greatest failure as the Decepticons got a hold of her and quickly reprogrammed her with methods far more advanced than even he understood, even now. Since the Autobots returned her, Dr. Fujiyama had kept her in storage and turned his attentions to much smaller projects. But Nighbird had always been in the back of his mind.

He had vowed to the Autobot leader he would never reactivate her again. But this wasn't quite breaking his promise. He was taking her to a specific research facility created for the sole purpose of learning how to properly integrate Cybertronian technology with that of Earth's. He hoped he could learn more about what the Decepticons added to her programming and increase his own research.

Of course, the first task was getting her down there. A large semi with a flat bed was waiting to take her the rest of the way as the train finally pulled into the station. Dr. Fujiyama went straight to the sizable casket-like container and turned to the transport team he hired to make sure his Nightbird made her journey safely.

"How did it go?" he asked the team foreman.

"Great Doc," the larger man replied. "Not a scratch on her, see for yourself."

Behind Dr. Fujiyama, one of his team was making desperate cutting motions as he spoke. He stood next to the robot's holding case glancing worriedly inside. The foreman's gut sank. He hoped whatever part of the robot was broken wasn't coming out of his paycheck. He heard these things were expensive.

Dr. Fujiyama climbed up to see what the damage was, hoping it wasn't anything important. The foreman was thinking the same thing.

They both looked into the box and gasped.

"It's empty!" the scientist gasped.

"Well we sure put it in there before we left," the foreman insisted. "I'll be damned if I know how someone could steal a giant robot right off a train. Excuse my french, Doc."

Dr. Fujiyama turned to look back down the train tracks as they disappeared into the horizon. He had a feeling that his Nightbird had not been stolen, but she herself had done the stealing right out from under their noses.

* * *

Megatron plotted, as he often did. As his underlings often did as well. For energy, for the cause, for themselves. The life of a Decepticon was one plot after another. It's what helped one rise; what kept one on top. What kept others believing that doing what Megatron wanted them to do was also beneficial to themselves as well. There was always something to do, something to think about. Some plan in motion that kept his ranks working like the well oiled machine he had carefully sculpted.

Below his thoughts was a subtle, yet insistent ringing in his processor. A steady tone that was trying to communicate and would not go away. It took a while for Megatron to notice it, but once he was aware, it had his attention. It was a communication signal. One that did not have any words, but let him know the location of the individual who was sending it. There had been only one member of his team that gave off that kind of signal and, while her service to him was brief, Megatron had yet to forget her.

"Nightbird..." he murmured to himself as he stood.

Plotting would have to wait. Action was required now.

* * *

Though made of metal and bolts and wires, she moved like a shadow, silent and undetected. As the time before, she slipped past all early warning systems that littered the Ark. The Autobot base was designed to detect the energy signatures of Cybertronians. Nightbird was neither from Cybertron nor did she give off such a signature. Teletrann found her presence to be of no more consequence than an automated repair drone. Thus, the intruder easily slipped into the base unnoticed.

While it had been Megatron's orders that had originally sent her to the Ark the first time around, it was not his influence that brought her back again. The Decepticons had given her a mission, a purpose, when they gave her higher intelligence. But before that, another program had been installed by her creator. Dr. Fujiyama built her in the way of the ninja. Nightbird had failed her first mission and the code of the ninja demanded she recover her honor. Only then could she return to Megatron. Otherwise, she would die trying.

In order to do this, she would have to be swift, silent and deadly on the first strike. The base was full of enemies. She could not afford a single mistake.

After assessing what she knew of the base from the last time it was infiltrated, Nightbird decided to begin at a side wing where very little traffic went. All it contained was a lab with hardly any inhabitants. They would be easy to take out and a perfect place to stash bodies where they wouldn't be found anytime soon.

Through the vents of the Ark, Nightbird slithered her lithe frame until she peered through a grate into Wheeljack's lab. Her yellow optics quickly scanned for energy signatures. There was only one. The hunched form of Wheeljack tinkered without suspicion dead center in her view.

Noiselessly, Nightbird slipped out of the ventilation duct in the ceiling. The inventor was still unaware he had an extra bot in his lab as she suck up behind him. His hunched position put his neck cables in perfect view and Nightbird raised her small dagger as she loomed over him.

Then came a sudden blow.

* * *

Autobots all over the base raised their heads from whatever they were doing as the warning klaxon sounded throughout the Ark. There were different alarms for different emergencies. One to rally the troops to roll out to face Decepticons, and one to alert the base that seriously wounded were returning. The third kind of alarm put fear in the spark of every Autobot. This one meant there were intruders in their home.

The source of the emergency signal had come from Wheeljack's lab. The closest group of Autobots available rushed to the lab doors and stared at what they saw inside.

The lab was in complete shambles. Wheeljack had his back pressed against the wall, indecisively pointing his weapon at that battle going on in the middle. There was no way to get a clear shot. Tables and chairs were knocked over and all sorts of things had been broken on the floor as Nightbird fought with a very unexpected opponent.

She had no idea who this bot was. Pink, female, a bit shorter than her. Nightbird had no information on this bot at all. But this unknown had stopped her from her killing blow and was now matching her strike for strike.

Crystal had just happened to wander in through the open lab doors when she saw the stranger with a weapon about to attack Wheeljack. There was no time to think, only act. Nightbird soon found she wasn't the only one at the base who could attack silently.

Several Autobots now stood at the doors of Wheeljack's lab, watching in a stupor as the two females battled within.

Nightbird was on the offense, throwing punch after punch. Crystal artfully dodged each one, not even straining to keep up with her speed. She took her time, watching how Nightbird moved with each attack. Then, when she saw her opening, Crystal parried a punch just so as to knock Nightbird a bit off balance and then kicked her with surprising strength right in the mid section.

Nightbird flew into the wall, but just barely managed to dodge as Crystal’s fists came rushing for her face. Her fist collided with the wall, leaving a dent, but it didn’t phase Crystal in the least. She was already spinning around to attack again. Now it was Nightbird on the defense.

The two females fought for their lives in the limited area. Prowl had his blaster in his hand by now, but the two were moving so fast, there was no way he could get in a clean shot.

Sideswipe watched the fight with wide optics before turning to Prowl.

"Please don't make them stop fighting," he entreated. "This is the coolest thing I've seen all year."

Prowl hardly had time to give Sideswipe a disgusted look before Crystal got in another savage kick on Nightbird. The ninja stumbled back, flipping onto a table. From that vantage point, she could see how much attention she had gained. Her good sense told her she was not going to win this battle now. The shadows were where she worked best. With her cover blown, it was time to go.

For a moment, she looked as though she was going to attack again. Crystal was ready. But instead, she turned and dove back into the ventilation. Before anyone could stop her, Crystal jumped into the table and rebounded into the shaft as well. The opening was too small for any of the Autobots to follow.

While Wheeljack was scratching his head at the opening, Prowl had already switched on his connection with Teletrann One.

"Teletraan, give me a map of all the air ducts on the base."

A holographic map appeared above his wrist and Prowl frowned as his worries came to light. There were a myriad different places Nightbird could go. Immediately he began delegating Autobots to any possible exit. Remembering the damage Nightbird was able to do the last time, Prowl was in a hurry to find her. They had to catch this intruder before someone got hurt.

Meanwhile, Crystal was hot on the intruder's heels as she crawled through the ventilation system. She had no idea who or what this robot was. She knew what the Decepticons looked like and this wasn't one of them. All she knew was this robot had snuck into the base and tried to kill, or at least severely injure, Wheeljack. And Crystal did not take kindly to that type of behavior.

A fresh wave of anger washed through her again as she recalled what the intruder almost did. Crystal crawled faster after the robot and managed to grab her foot just as Nightbird was trying to get out through an opening. She was not going to let this one get away so easily.

Nightbird didn't utter a sound when she was caught, but she did viciously kick at Crystal until she let go. But that didn't stop her any. Being a robot now, a kick to the face was nothing and Crystal almost grinned at the convenience of it. That stupid robot could kick all it wanted, it didn't hurt at all.

The exit poked out of the side of the volcano and Nightbird broke into a run. Her only thought was to get away and disappear so she could rethink her strategy. But Crystal wasn't going to allow that. She was quick to follow and was now chasing Nightbird on foot through the countryside, away from the Autobot base. And she was gaining.

Nightbird wouldn't have guessed this harmless looking bot would be that fast until Crystal plowed right into her back and knocked her face down on the ground. Crystal's first instinct would be to roll her over and start punching in the face. That would work if she were fighting a human, but she wasn't. She had to mentally remind herself these were robots and as such, different strategies were in order.

Robots couldn't be bruised and Crystal already knew a face shot wouldn't hurt her opponent. To stop a robot you had to either damage it with force, switch it off, or disassemble it. Crystal wasn't strong enough to punch through that armor. And she had no idea where this robot's main operating system was or how to get to it. That left only the last option.

Crystal shoved her fingers into Nightbird's shoulder strut and pulled out whatever connector cables she could. Nightbird managed to get a foot on her chest and kicked Crystal off her before she could do any more damage. Both quickly jumped to their feet and faced each other. Nightbird's arm was now hanging useless at her side.

Crystal smirked. If she stayed smart, she could win this.

With her good arm, Nightbird reached into her hip compartment and withdrew a few throwing stars. She tossed them at Crystal before she could figure out what they were. This was not something she ever trained for, but Crystal managed to dodge the first one. The second, however, grazed her arm. It had some kind of electric field around it that not only allowed the star to cut clean and deep, but her cables received an unpleasant shock as they were severed.

Surprised at the pain, Crystal grabbed her arm. She could feel a curious buzzing numbness there now, but it still worked.

_Touche shadow robot._

The two squared off again. Crystal was determined not to let the same thing happen twice. She could still take this thing, whatever it was.

Before either could attack, a stream of laser fire from above tore up the ground between them. Both looked up for the source. A whole posse of robots descended from the sky. None of them were Autobots.

Crystal backed up a few steps to make room when they all landed between her and Nightbird. There were five in all. Three jets and a dark blue one. All of them tall and menacing. The large gray one in the front was huge. As big, if not bigger than Optimus Prime. Crystal suddenly knew this wasn't a fight she could win anymore.

"What in Cybertron's name is going on here?" Megatron demanded. His confusion, like all his other emotions, came out as anger.

Nightbird stepped in front of Megatron and bowed formal and respectfully. Megatron looked pleased.

"Nightbird, I knew you would find your way back to me again. You have done well."

Starscream looked disgusted.

Megatron didn’t notice as he turned and looked at Crystal with a frown of disapproval. It took all of her effort not to back up more than she already had.

"What is it?" Skywarp sneered. "It looks so...weird."

Megatron squinted at her. He didn't know the answer to that, but the red insignia told him all the information he needed.

"Autobot scrap," he spat as he aimed his large fusion cannon at her head.

Crystal had never seen a weapon so large. She could clearly see down the wide barrel as it powered up. So close to another death that she didn't even have the sense to move. Not that running would help her anyway.

A shot was fired. Nothing so powerful as Megatron's fusion cannon, but it was enough to knock the large weapon right off Megatron's arm. He growled as he grabbed his arm where his cannon used to be.

Something black and white stood between Crystal and the group of Decepticons.

"Jazz!"

She had never wanted to hug him more.

"You stay behind me," Jazz told her. "It will be okay, Crys." He was brandishing his own blaster and Crystal had never heard his tone that serious before. She could merely nod and do as he said.

"Well, well Autobot," Starscream scoffed as he and his fellow seekers all pointed their weapons at him. "You're in a hurry to die today. Are you sure you want to put your spark on the line for that?"

Jazz didn't respond and he didn't fire. He knew one shot was all that was needed to bring every Decepticon down upon him. He had no choice but to wait.

Starscream, however, hated waiting. He shot his null ray, hitting Jazz in the shoulder. Jazz jerked from the hit and growled, his shoulder smoking. But he still didn’t move.

"Jazz,” Crystal whispered. She didn’t know what to do. Never had she felt this helpless.

"Just back up and stay behind me." Jazz tried to herd her away from them while keeping his optic band trained on the enemies. But the Decepticons were not going to let that happen.

Suddenly, Crystal felt thick arms around her and then there was a strange rushing sensation. One moment she was standing behind Jazz, the next she could see him in the distance and she was surrounded by the Decepticons. A large hand clutched her jaw.

"I could just rip this right off," Skywarp sneered. "It would be easy."

The other two seekers laughed.

Jazz clenched his jaw. He hadn't counted on Skywarp to sneak behind him like that. At first he had tried to stay calm to assess the situation. But when the Decepticon had put his hands on her like that and threatened to harm her, Jazz allowed his self control to drop. Crystal could have sworn she saw a change in him right before her optics.

Despite being outnumbered six to one, Jazz charged and fired. His first shot hit Skywarp right in the face. He instantly dropped his hostage and grabbed his optics, screaming that he couldn't see.

At that instant, Soundwave, who hadn't moved the entire time, stepped in. He fired two rounds from his regular blaster, both of which Jazz dodged. The third shot came from his concussion cannon. Jazz twisted to avoid the hit, but a corner of his optic band cracked from the sonic waves.

A surprise to Soundwave, the power to the cannon on his shoulder cut short before he could do more damage. Behind him, Crystal had grabbed the thick cord that connected the cannon to his back and yanked it out. Soundwave whipped his arm around, catching her right in the neck. Crystal flew to the ground, stunned.

Soundwave turned just as Jazz came for him and grabbed the smaller Autobot’s fist when he tried to punch. Effortlessly, Jazz was lifted into the air, hanging by his arm. Crystal scrambled to her feet to help when she was hit hard in the back. Something sharp sliced through her armor. She thought it strange she could feel every inch as it cut through wires and motors and engines. The tip of the blade poked out the front right where her heart would have been before it was yanked back out.

Crystal turned around and saw Nightbird, holding a dripping sword with her good arm. She tried to react, but her limbs were getting heavy for some reason. Her back felt wet as different liquids seeped out of the wound. It felt as if the whole world was going faster than she was.

Jazz saw Nightbird going for a second attack. In desperation, he kicked at Thundercracker who was closing in and then shot Soundwave square in the chest with his blaster. Surprisingly, Soundwave quickly turned and dropped the Autobot, trying to protect his glass chest and what rested inside. Jazz’s feet hit the ground and he lunged for Nightbird.

Crystal was having a hard time processing what was going on. She knew something important was damaged and she was going offline. Nightbird was coming again, but she was having a hard time getting her body to respond properly.

Nightbird stood over her, blade poised to attack when Jazz came out of nowhere. The look on his face was indescribable. It was so full of deadly intent, it didn't even look like him anymore. He grabbed Nightbird by the head and slammed her face into his knee. Her yellow optics shattered on contact. Jazz's fist then punched at her thin chest armor. Two punches, that was all it took and he was through. His hand went inside and came back out with several sparking wires and a still whirring motor. Nightbird's body fell lifeless to the ground.

Crystal tried to get to him, but her legs wouldn’t work. They were losing strength. He reached for her, but then several Decepticons rushed him. Crystal fought against her failing body, but she couldn't even will it to call his name. She felt herself collapse and saw Jazz disappear as the other Decepticons swarmed around him. There was nothing she could do. Her vision was fading.

The last to go was her hearing. At first she heard yelling and then all she could hear was a heavy sound like thunder. And then there was nothing as her systems finally shut down.

* * *

Crystal's world flooded with bright lights. At first all she could see was pure white, then color and forms sharpened as she sat up.

"There we go," said Ratchet. "Fully operational again."

She looked at him and then at her surroundings. She was suddenly back in the Autobot med bay as if it were all just a dream.

"That was a nasty stab," Ratchet continued, reminding her it was no dream. "Took me a while to clean you up and I had to replace quite a few things."

“What happened?” she gasped. “I thought I was dying.”

"We got there just in time," Ratchet explained. "Practically every Autobot on the base poured out there when the Decepticons flew in. They took off the second they saw they were outnumbered."

"Thank goodness," Crystal sighed. "I tried to fight them, but there were so many. I didn't know they were all that big. One of them just grabbed me and it was like--"

"Hey, don't worry about it." Ratchet sat himself next to her on the examining table and put an arm around her. Crystal didn't admit it out loud, but she was glad for the comfort. "It's over and we got there in time. We weren't going to let you two fight them off alone."

"Oh my gosh! Jazz!" Crystal suddenly remembered as she pulled away. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. He took a good pummeling on the outside, but most of his internal systems were undamaged. He's recharging right now."

Crystal was already off the table and dashing for the door faster than Ratchet could call after her. A moment later, she ran back in to hug the medic around the neck in thanks. Ratchet stumbled from the attack and patted her back before she was off down the hall again.

* * *

Once in the recharge room, Crystal could only stand next to the recharge berth. She had been in such a rush to see him, it didn't quite compute she couldn't actually converse with him unless she stopped the recharge process and woke him up. She didn't want to do that after what he had been through.

She lay her cheek on the lid of the berth. What a dear friend he was. How brave to lay his life on the line for her. She counted herself lucky to have him come to her rescue. She could have been killed if he hadn’t been there. The fact that she was happy to still be alive was strange. It was the first time since awaking in this body that she was relieved to be alive and it shook her. She wanted to live. Even if it was this life in this body, she wanted to live.

She switched off her optics, feeling the hum of the berth as she reveled in that. Then she turned to go. She would have to catch Jazz another time. But as she left, the lid opened up and a black hand reached out and snatched her wrist. Crystal was yanked inside with a startled squeak before the lid closed behind her.

Bumblebee walked by, thinking he had heard something. But everything in the recharge room looked normal. It was quiet with only one berth in use. So he continued on his way.

Inside, it was a tight fit. The two had to press tightly against each other in the narrow space. Jazz's bright blue optic band was the main source of light.

"Hey," Crystal smiled gently at him.

"Hey yourself."

She reached up and touched his optic band where it was cracked from Soundwave's concussion cannon. Ratchet would help him install a new one later on.

"You okay?" Jazz then asked.

"Fine, and you?" Crystal looked pointedly at the gaping circuitry on his chest where the nose of his car mode used to be.

Jazz looked down at himself. "Yeah, it got dinged up pretty good. Rachet's going to hammer out the dents before putting it back on. No biggie."

"Good, I'm glad." She settled down and made herself comfortable next to him, resting her forehead against his cheek. Jazz put an arm around her and pulled her in close while Crystal idly stroked his other cheek with her thumb. "If something happened to you, I don't know how I would handle it."

She felt his whole chest rumble when he chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. You still got me for a while yet."

They lay together in companionable silence. Crystal was in heaven, laying next to Jazz's spark and feeling its deep, calm rumble resonate through her body. But there was still something on her mind that wasn't letting her be completely at rest. That battle, how Jazz had looked as he tore up Nightbird. How he didn't look like himself at all when he had fought the Decepticons.

"So that Autobot I saw out there, fighting for our lives, is that the real you? You slipped into that other mode so easily, is that how you usually are on Cybertron? Do I just get this sugarcoated version of you while I'm around?"

Jazz was quiet for a moment, his finger idly tapping her arm as he thought about it.

"They're both me I guess. I gotta have my face for war to do what I gotta do. But I also can't forget that even though we've fought as long as we have, war isn't the only thing out there. Maybe one day I can leave that part of me behind, but it is still a part of me. Just as, I am sure, there's different parts to you as well."

"This is true. But I most definitely like this part of you better."

Jazz shifted and made a sound in his vents akin to a sigh.

"So do I, Crys. So do I."

* * *

Prowl had stopped by the med bay to get the report from Ratchet on Jazz and Crystal's injuries only to find the medic wasn't in. That was a bit unusual since, according to his information, Jazz still needed some repair work done. He hailed Ratchet's radio frequency and found the medic in Wheeljack's lab. Strangely enough, Ratchet was the only one in there. Even Wheeljack himself was nowhere to be seen.

Ratchet was just standing there, staring at the wall when Prowl entered.

"Ratchet."

The medic looked up, though he seemed to be distracted.

"Oh, hey Prowl. I left the report on my desk. I forgot to bring it in to you."

"I can retrieve it myself right now, thank you." Prowl turned to go, but stopped as curiosity got the better of him. "May I ask what you're doing?"

Ratchet fingered a dent in the wall. "Crystal made this dent. She punched the wall during her fight with Nightbird."

"Yes, I see,"Prowl nodded. He waited. There was sure to be more.

Ratchet fingered the dent again and then punched the wall himself. Any other room, Prowl would have protested to the treatment of the base, but Wheeljack's lab had so many dents in it anyway, one more wasn't going to hurt it. Ratchet removed his fist. The dent he made was larger than Crystal's, but it only went slightly deeper than hers.

Prowl finally understood. "She shouldn't be that strong."

"No, she shouldn't. And it's not because of anything I did. I asked Wheeljack if he's made any modifications to her and he said he hasn't either."

"Interesting," was all Prowl had to say.

Ratchet frowned and shouldered past Prowl and out the door, walking with purpose. Prowl hurried to follow. Ratchet went right up to Crystal's room and opened the door. Prowl was about to object that it wasn't proper to go in when she wasn't there, but Ratchet was already inside.

He stood in the tiny room with his hands on his hips, looking around him. Not that there was much to look at. It was simple and small with a single cot as the only furniture. There were a few vid pads hung on the wall with the pictures Jazz had taken of Cybertron. On one side, Crystal had removed one of the wall panels and rerouted all the wiring behind it so she could make a small shelf. Right now it sported all the odds and ends she had received for Valentines Day.

That was all there was to see in the tiny room at first glance, but Ratchet was not convinced. He kept looking for something else. The first place he searched was under the cot. He folded it up and fingered the wall paneling beneath it. It was loose. Ratchet pulled it out to discover a drawer Crystal had hidden in the wall. It was full of tools.

"Ah ha!" Ratchet stood in triumph, he was onto something. But he was still searching for something else.

He eyed the walls, looking for something that appeared out of place. They looked normal, but there were also several thin panels littering the walls that were not noticed at first glance.

Ratchet pulled at one, out came a chart, hanging on the wall. He pulled out more. Charts, instructions, schematics. One of the items in particular had notes and pictures about Brawn's gear designs and how to make gears stronger.

"Damn that kid," Ratchet grouched. "She's too smart for her own good. She keeps getting into things. I can't keep up with her."

Prowl looked at the different manuscripts thoughtfully. "She's eager to learn. That isn't a bad thing, is it?"

Ratchet frowned at him. After his breakdown, Prowl took a few days to lick his wounds and get his systems straightened out. Now, strangely, without his battle computer he was a bit more mellow than he used to be. As if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Most of the Autobots seemed to like it and thought it was about time for Prowl's gears to wind down a little. Right now it was getting on Ratchet's nerves.

"Do you see this?" He tore one sheet off the wall and shoved it in Prowl's face. "This is the schematic for a battle computer. Do you want her putting one of those in herself?"

Prowl finally frowned and Ratchet felt vindicated.

"She can't just go experimenting on her body whenever she wants. She needs proper supervision or she's going to damage herself."

"Agreed," said Prowl seriously. "Let's have a talk with her."

* * *

It was much later, after Crystal had time to rest and recharge, when Prowl called her into his office. This was something new. She had never been called into Prowl's office before. Ratchet was also there. This might be interesting.

"Is this about me trying to take on Nightbird?" Crystal wondered. She had since been briefed by Jazz exactly who Nightbird was and where she came from.

"Partially," Ratchet said. "But one step at a time. Hold this for me please."

He held out what appeared to be just a small chunk of metal. Crystal took it and found out it was much heavier than it looked. Her arm instantly fell to the side, weighed down.

"Just as I thought, you blew out your joint already," Ratchet accused. "That's what happens when you go fiddling with things you don't fully understand. You're going to break yourself faster than anyone else could ever do for you. Decepticons included."

Crystal had to use her other hand to lift the metal back into Prowl's desk.

"And who's fault is it that I have to resort to doing this myself?" she said. "You want to keep me this helpless, weak little thing that doesn't know anything. Every time I try to learn you always frown at me. Any time I try to give myself any kind of upgrade you always try to stop me. I have to learn how to do this!"

"I don't understand why you keep trying to do these things behind my back," Ratchet argued. "I tell you no sometimes because it's not a good idea. But other things, I can help you with them. Why don't you want me to help you?"

"Because one day you're not going to be here!" Crystal shot back with so much emotion her voice cracked. The office went silent, both Autobots too surprised with her to say anything.

"I'm not stupid, I know you're in a war and when I go back to Cybertron, I'll be in it to. What if something happens to you or Wheeljack or Perceptor? What if I end up somewhere without any of you? I need to know how to take care of myself and how to repair my own body. And I'm learning to do it the best way I know how, okay?"

Ratchet didn't say anything for a while. But then he picked up the metal object and started for the door.

"Come in tomorrow, I'll fix your joints and show you how to install them properly," was all he said as the door closed behind him.

"Poor Ratchet," Crystal said to the door. "He's so bent on sheltering me, but I can't help him. When he tells me no, I just want to do it more."

"I'm sure I wouldn't know how he feels at all," Prowl said as he got up from his desk.

Crystal looked at him.

"Why Prowl, is that your attempt at being sarcastic?"

"You found it only as an attempt?" Prowl wondered as he herded her out of his office. "Perhaps I will try harder."

"No need to try too hard, I like you just how you are."

"I see." Prowl was currently looking through the files he held, but he sounded pleased. "And I hope you do know that no matter what happens in the future, even if Ratchet isn't there, I will always be."

Crystal smirked. "Good." She suddenly whipped around and threw a punch at him with her good arm.

Prowl was surprised, but still fast enough to catch her fist in his palm without dropping his reports.

"You can't go anywhere until I get a chance to see how good you really are." There was a look on her face Prowl was unused to seeing.

"You want to...fight me?" Prowl wondered, completely baffled at the sudden change in subject.

Crystal was grinning with a certain determination in her optics. "Oh yeah, ever since I first saw you in action. As soon as I get my new body, you and I are sparring. Promise me."

Prowl gave her a shadow of a smile. Suddenly that side of Crystal he wondered about ever since he saw her in that ring started to make sense. That side that she kept hiding under that sugary sweetness of hers. "You still surprise me. Every time I think I have you figured out, you throw something like this at me."

"So is that a promise?" Crystal pressed.

"If you wish it, but I don't promise you will win."

Crystal grinned. "We'll see about that."

**Close File #015: Sugarcoated - Jazz**


	16. Unique

**The Autobot Files**

**File #016 -Unique**

Crystal stared at the ceiling as she lay on the table while the diagnostics ran. Several cables snaked from the exposed systems in her head and chest. She was used to it by now. It didn't hurt at all, she just had to lay there until they were done. Today, however, took a little bit of extra patience. The diagnostics run was taking longer than usual. Perceptor was looking for something specific.

For a while now, Crystal had experienced small episodes of uncontrollable shaking. At first, it was just in her hands every now and then. When Prowl's body had been dragged into the med bay after he had been shot by Decepticons, Crystal felt it in her whole frame and it took a while to get it to stop. After that, she experienced small bouts of muscle cable spasms, usually when her stress level was high. After the Nightbird incident, it was getting even worse. Crystal knew it was time to report what was going on to Ratchet and Perceptor.

After having given them a full history of what had been going on, the two were a bit uncertain what to look for or what was the cause. It wasn't a problem that was common among normal Autobots. Perceptor theorized it was some kind of processor glitch. Some stray signal that went to the muscle cables when certain emotions hit. But without anything solid, there was only one thing to do, run a test on everything.

It was over an hour before Crystal was allowed to dislodge the cables and put herself back together.

"I didn't see anything at first glance, but there's quite a bit of deeper programming information I'll need to comb over," Perceptor said as he approached her. "It will take some time."

"Do what you gotta do. I'm not going anywhere."

Perceptor gave her a small, amused smile. "I suppose not. Just keep me informed if anything new comes up and I'll pass this information onto Ratchet when he's finished with his routine maintenance appointments."

"Great, I do have a question. Is it possible you'll find something that will prevent me from getting the body transfer?"

Perceptor rubbed his chin in thought, a curiously human action. "I find it doubtful. In fact, if we can't fix the problem ourselves, it's quite possible the problem will be fixed on its own with your upgrade. Especially with the new processor I'm building for you. It should bridge the gaps between the emotional and physical far more smoothly."

Crystal allowed herself some private relief. She hated this body more each day. It was ugly, weak, and it was slowly turning against her. Never so badly had she yearned to fit in. It was torture waiting for her new design. But at the same time, the last thing she wanted to do was rush them.

She thanked Perceptor and went on her way. Not that she had much to do. With her new condition, Ratchet was restricting the type of repairs she could do in the med bay. Any delicate work that required a steady hand was now off limits. It certainly gave her quite a bit less to do. It was understandable, but now she had to find other ways to pass the time and keep herself entertained.

And speaking of being entertained....

There was music spilling out of one of the rooms and it drew her forward. Music always did. It was her one thing she enjoyed as a human and could still enjoy as a robot. After poking her head into the room, incredulity and extreme amusement fought for dominance on her face. It certainly wasn't what she expected to see at all.

_All the single ladies_

_All the single ladies_

_All the single ladies_

_All the single ladies_

_Now put your hands up!_

Dancing AND singing to Beyonce was Tracks, not holding back and having a good time of it.

Crystal was floored. All she had ever seen from this Autobot was frowns, brooding and snarky remarks. She really didn't think he had it in him to let loose and have fun. It was the most amusing thing to see him dance around to this song. She would have given her right arm for a video camera.

_If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it._

_Don’t be mad once you see that he want it._

_If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it._

Tracks swung his hips this way and that. Then he jumped and spun around, stopping dead. The music stopped instantly, obviously coming from his own radio. Crystal had been trying so hard not to burst out laughing she thought she was going to pop a bolt somewhere.

"What are you doing?" Tracks sputtered. His voice actually fizzled out for a second because his pitch went too high.

Crystal tried to respond, but every time she attempted to make a word, her laughter threatened to overwhelm her instead. She tried several times to give a serious reply. They all failed.

"So you just wanted to come laugh at me so you can feel better about yourself?" Tracks demanded. He looked as though his energon was boiling in his engine. "Do you enjoy poking your nose in everyone else's business?"

Crystal was beyond trying to explain herself. "I didn't know you could be that fun," was all she could get out.

Tracks was frowning. "You don't know anything about me and I would rather keep it that way. Kindly go poke your transistors somewhere else."

And with that, he slammed the door in her face.

Crystal didn't mind. Nothing Tracks did bothered her anymore. She stumbled away from the door, holding her mouth until she could throw out her laughter in a utility closet. Then she continued down the hall with a wide grin on her face. That mental image was going to amuse her for some time.

She didn't get far when two Autobots were suddenly in her path. One was gray and about her height. The other was red and quite a bit taller.

"Gentlemen," she greeted, curious to see they were smiling as big as she was.

"You look happy," Bluestreak chirped. "Did something happen?"

"Oh no, I was just thinking of something amusing. What are you guys up to?"

"Well..." Sideswipe ventured as he sidled up next to her. "We've heard something very interesting about you."

Crystal's grin fell completely. When Bluestreak and Sideswipe got together to conspire, it was anyone's guess how it would turn out. Especially when Sunstreaker wasn't with them. The yellow Autobot was their voice of reason. Quite the surly voice, but reasonable, nonetheless.

"And what is that?"

Sideswipe opened his mouth but Bluestreak popped in first. "We heard you can tell the future!"

Crystal's shoulders sank. "Really. From who?"

"When I was talking to Wheeljack, he mentioned it. Although..." Bluestreak rubbed his cheek with a thoughtful finger. "He said you couldn't actually do it, you just pretend, come to think of it."

"So how about it, Crys? What's this about? Can you really do it?" Sideswipe pressed. "I didn't know humans had powers like that."

"It's just a card trick people do at parties," Crystal insisted. "I did it for some of the guys for fun. It's not real."

"Do it for us!" Bluestreak said, his door panels quivering in excitement. "Can you please? It sounds like a lot of fun. We don't have anything like that on Cybertron. It'd like to see how it works."

"I don't have my cards anymore. I need them to do the trick."

"But you could MAKE some, couldn't you?" Sideswipe pressed.

"I...guess I could..."

"Alright!" Bluestreak cheered. "I can help, too! Do you need help? I can help you with them. Just tell me what you want me to do."

Crystal tried to keep her pained expression to herself. “Okay...”

*******************************

Tracks sulked down the hallways, frowning. He was in a fabulous mood that morning and now it had nosedived into a storm cloud. That nosy female always made him feel that way. It was like her presence just sucked everything positive out of the room. He really didn't like her. He never had, though he couldn't quite put his finger on exactly why. They both seemed to rub each other the wrong way. And Tracks was hardly interested in changing that situation. It wasn't worth his time.

His wanderings took him down to the small quarters Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shared. The door was left open, meaning someone was home, and Tracks poked his head in. It was Sunstreaker, as usual, lounging around inside. Sideswipe was almost never in unless it was to try and coax is brother to come out and do something with him. The red twin had too much energy to just lay around in his room. Sunstreaker, however, liked to have his quiet time to sit and think or doodle on whatever he could find since they didn't have proper art supplies on the Ark.

That was what he was doing at the moment, slumped on his cot with legs pulled up, a drawing on his thighs. He looked up when he felt someone lurking in his doorway.

"Hey," was the calm greeting before Sunstreaker looked back down at his work.

He had a digital stylus he could use, but he preferred to etch on thin pieces of metal. He liked having something physical to touch when he was done.

Tracks strode in and made himself at home on one of the chairs. "What are you doing?"

Sunstreaker didn't look up. "Eh, just killing time. I've got patrol in a few clicks."

Tracks smiled a little. If you caught Sunstreaker doodling and asked him what he was doing, he never said he was drawing. He wondered if the yellow Autobot ever noticed that. Tracks reached over and picked up one of the metal sheets already filled with sketches. He then frowned at the subject matter.

"Really, Sunstreaker?" he said, holding up the sheet. It was covered with drawings of Crystal.

"What?" he defended. "She has a different look. I had to draw it."

"Uh huh. It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that she's the only thing remotely female around here, would it?"

Sunstreaker leveled an irritated gaze on him. "Are you suggesting I'm getting desperate?"

"I'm suggesting I thought you were above the old ploy of hanging around ugly femmes to make yourself look prettier."

Sunstreaker looked at the sketch he was working on. "She's not ugly. She's...unique."

Tracks huffed. "Oh please. Why don't you just spark bond with her and get it over with? Oh wait, she doesn't have one, does she?"

Sunstreaker's demeanor visibly darkened. "Are you looking to get evicted because I can arrange that."

Tracks waved off the threat as he usually did. They had been friends long enough that they were each used to the other's personality.

"Unique, huh? I guess that's one way of putting it. The look only an artist could appreciate. I suppose one could get tired of traditional beauties at some time. Especially with all the beauties you've seen."

That earned a smirk from Sunstreaker.

Before the war, he had made a good living doing paintings and etchings. It was a talent that was quite rare within a robot society. His particular niche of artistry set him apart from the other artists who focused mostly on sculpture and architecture and serene paintings for professional buildings. Sunstreaker could do all that, too. But he made most of his living with a certain specialty he was known best for.

More than anything else, Sunstreaker enjoyed painting beautiful femmes both for leisure and for profit. Tracks had the privilege of seeing Sunstreaker's impressive personal collection of beauties—often without certain parts of their armor—before Sunstreaker was assigned to the Ark's first and final journey.

Needless to say, such a profession earned the yellow Autobot quite an adequate supply of beautiful femmes whenever he desired their company. The unfortunate part of his situation was that Sunstreaker had an affinity for picking out the most beautiful and most mentally unstable for his personal affections. Even though Tracks met him later in his career, he still had to yank a maddened femme or two off his friend as she tried to rip out his spark. Sideswipe had far more interesting stories from that time period.

Perhaps the answer to the riddle of Sunstreaker's preoccupation with their resident female was that he was finally ready for something different. And Crystal certainly was different. Notwithstanding the fact that she was from another planet, she was not a stunning beauty and, even Tracks had to admit, she was mentally stable. Certainly a new experience all around for Sunstreaker.

"So if you paint her, are you going to show me?"

Sunstreaker gave him a funny look. "Crystal was right, you are kind of a freak."

Tracks was instantly frowning again.

*********************************

Crystal hunched over a table in Wheeljack's lab, doing some etching in metal sheets herself. They were cut into card shaped proportions and there was a whole pile waiting to be decorated.

The idea of recreating every single Tarot card was daunting. There was no way Crystal was going to remake every card from all four suits plus the major arcana. Even if she just wrote the names of each card on them, with them being made of metal sheets, the deck would be enormous. So she was looking to cut corners where ever she could.

While she was trying to pick and choose which cards she should put in the deck, she got the idea to just start from scratch and make her own. Her mother always told her she had a gift for reading cards. And the main component of Tarot card reading was how the cards were interpreted by the reader. She decided to mark a small number of cards with the basic ideas the deck contained as a whole and interpret from there. The Autobots wouldn't know that she made it up. It was all for fun anyway. And when she had satisfied everyone's curiosity, she could just throw them away.

While deciding what to put on each card, Crystal suddenly became aware there was someone sitting at the table with her.

"Oh, hey Prowl. You're so quiet. I didn't even notice you come in."

The second in command looked up from his own files. "You seemed quite preoccupied. I did not wish to distract you."

Crystal couldn't help but smile. "I think being distracting is more Jazz's thing."

"It is indeed," Prowl responded flatly.

Crystal found his tone humourous whether he meant it to be or not. "So was there something I can help you with? Is that why you came down here?"

"No, not quite. I just..." he paused to find the words. "I enjoy your company so I thought I would bring my files and do it down here." He said it as if just realizing it himself. He had been like that a lot lately ever since he lost his battle computer. It was as if he was experiencing everything old in life with a new perspective. It was a bit amusing to watch.

He looked at her. "Unless you would rather I went elsewhere?"

"Not at all. I'm hardly doing anything important even if you were distracting. Please feel free to stay."

Prowl gave her a small smile and went right back to his work. Crystal remained watching him for a while after his attention was no longer on her. The two of them always had the oddest, frankest conversations, but they were never uncomfortable. Prowl just had that way about him that always made the room feel calm and pleasant. At least for her. She knew not everyone enjoyed talking to him. But she always did.

Her gaze traveled from his face to the bright red Autobot symbol lighting up the white background of his chest. She wondered what his spark sounded like. She always forgot to take the opportunity to listen to it when she had it. She still had no idea why she had such an obsession with them, but she loved to listen. Something about them spoke to her. Each one was different, emitting its own sound which somehow always seemed to accurately define the Autobot who housed it. She kept making bets with herself what Prowl's would sound like.

But alas, she couldn't just come out and ask him if she could listen to his spark. Not even with Prowl could she bring herself to be that straightforward.

Right outside the room, Sunstreaker was coming down the hall before his patrol shift began. Talking with Tracks had got him wondering if maybe he should ask Crystal if he could do some kind of portrait of her. Even though he knew of her aversion for her current body, he kept trying to figure out how he could get her to agree before she got her knew one. He could say it was so she could look back someday and remember what she used to look like. Or maybe he could say he would only keep it in his personal collection. No, that sounded a bit creepy. And Crystal wasn't like the promiscuous femmes he used to paint. He couldn't play to her vanity. But he would put the idea in her head and see how she reacted.

He turned into Wheeljack's lab just in time to see Crystal sitting next to Prowl, their backs to him. Crystal leaned over and rested her cheek on his arm.

"By the way, I enjoy your company, too," she told him.

Prowl didn't react, but Sunstreaker felt a sudden rush of jealousy that surprised him. Confused by his own emotional reaction, he soundlessly retreated from the room before either knew he was ever there.

****************************

Even though she had been working on her new cards, Crystal hoped Sideswipe and Bluestreak would eventually forget her promise to them. They didn't. Nor would they let her forget either, constantly asking when the cards would be done.

She procrastinated as much as she could until finally admitting she had enough cards to work with. The two energetic Autobots set her up in the break room and immediately demanded to have their fortunes told. With her limited number of cards, Crystal used a simple three card spread to demonstrate her craft. It wasn't as impressive as a more detailed spread with a full deck, but it was enough to entertain the Autobots.

If Crystal thought she was going to get away with one telling each for Sideswipe and Blustreak and then be done, she was wrong. More Autobots kept walking in, wondering what she was doing. Then they would either ask to have theirs read as well or be egged into it by one of the others. Sideswipe had his fortune read three times by the first hour. After doing the general past, present, and future reading, Crystal made the mistake of mentioning one could also ask the cards a specific question about their lives and get that read.

After a while, several Autobots had gathered around the table listening to all the readings and it had turned into a big game of "Now do so-and-so" or "Ask the cards this." Most questions were on the non serious side and there was lots of general ribbing through the Autobots as they received their answers. Everyone was laughing and having a good time of it. That made Crystal have a good time.

She was glad to see the Autobots were realizing it was a game and just having fun with it. She hated when people took the Tarot reading too serious. Her mother was that way. She insisted Crystal had a deep connection with the cards and she should seriously work on improving her craft. But Crystal never wanted it to be more than just a party game.

"What is everyone doing in here?" Optimus Prime asked as he curiously poked his head in. He could hear the laughter all the way from his office.

Sideswipe instantly popped out of the crowd. “OH! Do Optimus Prime!”

Before he knew what was going on, the Autobot leader was herded into the room and made to sit in the chair across from Crystal. There were several talking at once, all trying to explain it to him. Though still a bit confused, Optimus thought he got the main gist of it.

“My future?” he wondered. “You’re going to predict my future?”

“We call it fortune telling,” Crystal said as she handed Optimus her small deck. “Mix these up. Now do you want a general reading or do you have a specific question you want the cards to answer?”

Once properly shuffled, Optimus handed the cards back to Crystal. “Uh... do I have to tell you the question?”

“Nope,” was the immediate reply and Crystal was already putting cards down before he could change his mind.

The general consensus in the room was that it wasn’t fair Optimus kept his question to himself. But it was already starting and most quieted down so they could hear Crystal’s predictions and see if they could guess what the question was.

She lay three cards in a row face down. The first card was turned over. They had a few symbols and scribbles on them that only Crystal knew the meanings of.

“This first card represents your current situation. The card suggests that there needs to be changes in your life. With this card upside down, I feel that this particular situation has been stagnating and these changes have been needed for a while.”

No one said anything. No one had a clue to what she was referring to since Optimus did not feel inclined to share. Optimus, however, was looking more and more interested.

Crystal turned over the next card.

“This one represents the way you will act upon this situation.” She paused and looked at the card for a while, trying to decide its meaning. “You have been aware of this problem and have been sitting on a current solution for a while. But you have been hesitant to act upon it. This card is upright which suggests that this idea is a good one.”

She paused and looked up at Optimus. “Does this make sense to you? Without the question, I’m just trying to read them the best I can.”

“So far,” Optimus admitted. “Please continue.”

“Alright. This last card reveals the results of this decision should you act upon it.” She flipped it over and again took a while to decipher its meaning.

“If you act on this decision, it may not seem like the best thing to do to some and you may even question it yourself, but it is the best direction to go. And it will put you on the right course to continue on your way to your other goals.”

“I see,” Optimus nodded. “Thank you for the advice.” He went to stand, but a few Autobots were already protesting.

“Come on, Optimus, one more,” Hound urged.

“Yeah, ask it something out loud,” Bluestreak added.

“I’m afraid I do have other things to do,” Optimus tried.

“Just real quick,” Crystal urged. “A one card reading to make everyone happy.”

All the Autobots seemed to agree.

“Go on Optimus, ask something,” Mirage said. “It can be anything. It doesn’t have to be serious.”

“Hey!” Sideswipe called. “Ask it if we’ll win the war!”

Crystal instantly thought that was too touchy of a subject for a gathering like this, but the Autobot’s response was laughter and good natured comments of how great it would be to be able to put on their calendar exactly when they would finally beat the Decepticons.

Optimus relented under the mood of the room and sat back down. “Very well. One more.”

Crystal fanned the cards. “Okay, ask the cards out loud.”

He took a moment to try to figure out what wording to use. “Will we– What will be the result of this long war?”

“Now pick a card.”

Optimus drew one and then handed it to Crystal. The room was quiet as she looked at it. It was quiet for quite a bit longer than normal. The hand that was holding the card began to shake a little. Crystal willed it to stop, but she still didn’t say anything.

"What'd you get?" Jazz asked. "It something bad?"

"Does it say the Decepticons blow us all apart?" Brawn laughed. "Come on, just tell us."

Crystal was quiet for a moment longer and then put the card down on the table.

"Peace," she said quietly. "The war will end in peace."

The room was silent. Of all the answers everyone had been expecting, that one wasn't one of them. Optimus Prime laced his fingers under his chin and looked thoughtfully down at the card. He didn't have anything to say.

*******************************

Later that night, Crystal walked down to her room, cards now tucked away in a hip compartment. The loud voices of all the Autobots as they excitedly talked and shouted were still ringing in her audials. It was nice to have quiet now. She loved being with the Autobots, especially when they were all having a good time. But she also liked having time to herself. After hours of reading cards, Crystal felt drained and it was more than just physical fatigue. She was finished predicting the future for giant robots for a while.

Now she just wanted to retire to her cot to rest and recharge whatever part of her battery was feeling so low. The door to her room was open. It was a common occurrence. She often left it that way even if she wasn't in. There weren't a lot of closed doors at the Ark. It was just the way things were.

So Crystal walked in as she would any other time and switched on the lights. There was already someone else in there and seeing them in the light made her jump back.

"Sunstreaker!"

In hindsight, she should have noticed his optics in the dark when she came in. She really was drained.

"What's doin' babe?" he grinned in quite a different tone that she was used to hearing from him.

"Just tired, _babe_ ," she matched his tone in jest. "I was thinking about trying to sleep. Or going to the recharge room. Or both."

Instead of moving out of her way, Sunstreaker got closer and loomed over her, one hand resting on the wall.

"How about I join you?"

She gave him a dubious look. "Would I be getting any sleep?"

Sunstreaker's core temperature suddenly went up and his engine revved a little at the ideas that question put in his processor.

Crystal was still not buying whatever he was trying to sell.

"Sunshine, I'm really tired. Can we continue this conversation tomorrow?"

"Well, I kind of came here because I wanted to spend time with you _tonight,_ you know? As in, not alone?"

Crystal suddenly looked concerned. "You don't want to be alone? Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?"

"What? No, no! Not like that." He ducked away when her worried hands reached for his face. "It's not—stop it!"

Crystal grinned as she kept trying to grab his face and fuss all over him. "Oh come on Sunshine, what's the matter? You can tell me. Let me see that adorable face."

"Come on! I'm trying to—I just want to talk to—slag it."

Sunstreaker suddenly stopped fighting her attempts to grab him and grabbed her instead. He yanked her to him by the shoulders and put his mouth on hers. Crystal's optics flickered brightly in surprise and she went stiff as a board in his grasp.

After a while, he pulled away, still frowning. "Primus, I finally found a way to get you to shut up for two clicks."

"Too bad it doesn't have the same effect on you," Crystal shot back, having quickly recovered.

"That's because you're awful at it," Sunstreaker grinned.

Crystal opened her mouth in silent offense, but didn't say anything to argue.

Sunstreaker put his hands on the wall on either side of her, blocking her in. "Maybe I should help you practice more."

He leaned in once more and Crystal's hand promptly went over his mouth.

"Oh no, that was not an invitation to try it again,” she informed him.

"Mrph mmmph?" Sunstreaker protested, but Crystal's hand was still in the way. She finally removed it to allow him to speak his mind.

"Why not?" he repeated.

"Well where I come from, it's considered bad manners to neither ask nor go in without some sort of visible sign that I want you to."

"Ugh, fine! Can I kiss you again?"

"You...want to?" Crystal suddenly looked like she didn't believe him.

Another sound of frustration from Sunstreaker. "I'm asking, aren't I?"

Crystal looked thoughtful, completely unaffected by the much larger Autobot looming impatiently over her.

"Mmm...no."

"No?! Why the slag not?"

"Because it's weird, Sunshine."

"What is? The kissing itself or that I want to?"

"Both."

Now it was Sunstreaker's turn to look offended.

"Oh, I see how it is. It's because I'm not you're beloved, Prowl, is that right? I don't have a rod shoved permanently up my tailpipe so I'm not as good, is that it?"

"Now wait a minute--"

"Or Jazz? You only like seconds in command? I'm not high enough on the ladder? Don't like lowly soldiers, huh? Well let me tell you something, we are just as—mrphhmm!"

Crystal grabbed his face and kissed him even as he was trying to yell at her. She held him there until he was quiet and then finally let go. Sunstreaker had an extremely stunned, but pleasant look on his face.

"Looks like it goes both ways," Crystal said flatly. "You talk to much without listening to anyone."

"You could be right, you could be right," Sunstreaker said in a much lighter tone. He still had a far off look in his face. It took him a few moments to shake it off before gazing back down at her. "So how was that? Still weird?"

Crystal looked apologetic. "It doesn't feel like anything. Is it...supposed to with robots— with Autobots, I mean?"

"Well yeah. I mean, we don't do it all the time. There are...other ways. But, you know, there's something there. Didn't it feel like something when you were human?"

"I don't know. I never kissed anyone when I was human."

He couldn't help but give her a sympathetic smile. "That's a little tragic, don't you think? That would make your first kiss—wow, your first kiss was Sideswipe? That's actually a bit on the pathetic side."

"Thanks."

Crystal didn't look happy at that last comment, but Sunstreaker bent over to look her in the face. He was grinning.

"So does that make me your second?"

"I'm not going to say."

Undaunted by the response, Sunstreaker just chuckled. "I guess we ARE going to have to get you into that new body to make sure you enjoy it."

"Oh, har, har, Sunshine."

"No, I wasn't being sarcastic. I'm serious. If that's what's holding you back, then I'm sure I can get used to a new look if I have to."

Crystal's voice fell flat. "Thanks for the sacrifice."

"Well if we're going to make this work then—"

"Oh woah, hold on right there." This time Crystal ducked away from him and put a few paces between them. "There is not a 'this', okay? I thought you were just trying to satisfy some weird curiosity."

"What, you don't like me?" Sunstreaker demanded, taking a step forward.

Crystal knew, with his personality, it could easily blow up into a big misunderstanding if she wasn't careful.

"Here, come sit with me." She sat on the cot and patted the place beside her.

Sunstreaker sat, but he looked ready to jump and make a scene at any time. Crystal tried to be as careful as possible.

"Now what I say to you does not leave this room, okay? I've never told anyone this. So if you break my trust and go blab it around, even to Sideswipe, I'll kick your ass, you got me?"

The threat actually smoothed Sunstreaker's hackles a bit. He very much liked the idea of her trusting him with something she hadn't shared with any of the other Autobots.

"Autobot's honor," Sunstreaker promised. "I'll take it with me to the Matrix."

"Okay..." Crystal said slowly as she tried to prepare herself. "And don't laugh either, okay?"

He looked into her face with all seriousness, leaning forward. "Look at me Crys, I'm not laughing."

She had to look away, that face was too intense. Instead, she gazed down at her knees as her hands rubbed at them self-consciously.

"Okay, so I've never been in a relationship before. I was always moving around and guys aren't really interested in girls who are taller than them and always have their knuckles torn up from boxing matches. But, you know, I thought one day it would happen. I just had to keep my eyes open. But then..."

"This happened instead," Sunstreaker finished.

"Yeah..." she said in a quiet voice. "And I figured I lost my chance at ever knowing what it would be like to have someone, even just for a little while. I spent a great deal of time trying to kill that part of me that had always hoped for romance. I assumed it wasn't something that could be reciprocated in your culture." She gave a bitter chuckle. "And then I found out I was wrong and I'm still just being as stupid as I've always been."

"That's for sure."

"Thanks," Crystal shot him a look which made Sunstreaker look away in apology.

"Anyway, long story short. I'm still getting used to the idea again. When I first saw Jazz, Prowl and Grimlock, they were like living toys moving around my apartment. I had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that they were actual living beings. Even today, sometimes I look at you Autobots, and I'm not sure which view I should take. But I'm working on it. I'm just not quite there yet."

"I see." Sunstreaker rested his elbows on his knees in a thoughtful position. "So all that disgusting flirting you do with Jazz..."

"Testing the waters?" Crystal shrugged. "Practice I guess. I don't know. It's just how we talk to each other. It's easy to let go and be silly with him. I know I'm safe. It's the same with Prowl. I know I could go up to him at a Christmas party completely drunk out of my mind and proposition him and he wouldn't do anything."

Sunstreaker trained his optics on her. "So am I also one of your 'Safe Autobots?'"

"Would you be mad if I said no?"

The yellow Autobot surprised her by breaking into a very satisfied grin. "Not at all." He leaned forward, looming over, their faces closes. "In fact, I'd rather not be your safety. Because when you're ready, babe, I'm going to be your adventure."

***************************

Jazz glanced up from the large pile of data pads he and Prowl had to go through. Whether or not it was a direct result of Crystal's answers to Optimus Prime's questions the night before, their leader suddenly had a whole pile of records, reports and proposals for them to read. The dates on a few of them were a couple years old. Optimus had been sitting on these for a while, waiting for the right time to bring them out. He did indeed want some changes and he needed both Jazz and Prowl's feedback and their support on his ideas.

It went without saying that Prowl was better at going through mountains of information than Jazz was. Though Jazz was just as intelligent and had just as many good ideas, he didn't have Prowl's stamina for staying in place and staring at words all day. Jazz needed breaks in between reports. He liked having a few minutes to process the information and think about it for a while before taking on another. Prowl, on the other hand, Jazz had a theory that Prowl's processor could spend half its computation power mulling over old information while the other half was reading new information. He really was some Autobot.

Prowl also had an acute talent for never getting distracted when he was really into reading something. Jazz could crank his music as loud as he wanted and Prowl would easily tune him out. Or turn off his audials. Either way, he didn't let anything short of physical removal slow him down.

Jazz was the unfortunate opposite. He liked to let things distract him. Sometimes he went looking for them if the work became too tedious. It just so happened there was a nice readily available distraction in the office right now.

Crystal had come in earlier, claiming she needed a place to hide out for a while. She didn't mention she knew both Smokescreen and, surprisingly, Tracks were looking for her. She was in too good of a mood to see either one. Prowl looked a bit doubtful of her being in there. Crystal had never spent much time in his office before, especially while he was working. But she promised she would be so quiet they wouldn't even know she was there.

So far, she was keeping her promise. She had sat herself in an empty chair and hardly moved from that position since. It disappointed Jazz a bit.

She must have gotten some of Prowl's patience in her, because she could sit like a statue and be content not to move for quite sometime. In fact, she looked content to sit there quietly among them and not make a sound. Jazz couldn't even imagine how she was doing it. He himself was having a hard time having her sit right next to him and not be talking to her.

Luckily, he had just finished a report. Distraction time.

"So Crys, what are you thinking about?"

Crystal stayed the way she was a while longer. She had been resting her cheek on her knuckles while gazing dreamily at the space between Prowl and Jazz as if trying to keep them both in her sights at once. Her optics were dimly lit until Jazz addressed her.

She shifted in her seat. "Not much. Just thinking about the difference between safety and adventure."

"Oh? That's a bit of a random topic."

"Not really, it's relevant to me."

Jazz leaned on his arm rest toward her, a bit intrigued about where it came from. "Care to expound on that thought?"

She looked over at Prowl who, most likely, had not heard a single thing.

"Not really."

She returned her gaze to Jazz whose grin now turned into a cute little pout. Despite the fact that Ratchet had told her most mechs were built with the same general face design, there was something about Jazz's mouth that always caught her attention. Maybe it was the way he smiled, she couldn't say. He seemed to have a fuller bottom lip than most. She found it...what? Sexy? She wasn't sure. But every time she looked at it, it made her want to bite her own.

Crystal found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Would be it any different from Sunstreaker or Sideswipe? Was it just because she didn't have the correct physical receptors in that area, or was it the Autobot that she was kissing?

Then Crystal suddenly wondered if she was being a robo-skank, thinking all these things about different male Autobots and not considering any consequences. The last thing she wanted was her life to end up like some kind of teenage girl fantasy where every guy was in love with her. And the pathetic thing was, it would only be because she was the only thing remotely female and close to their species on the entire planet. It was hardly something to be proud of.

Plus she had just told Sunstreaker yesterday that she was still having trouble seeing the Autobots in that light. Had that been a lie? It was that yellow Autobot's fault to begin with. He put her mind in the gutter with that lanky body moving into hers and his vague, yet exciting promises in that husky voice.

Even if she agreed to a relationship with him, or any of them for that matter, what did that mean exactly? Did Autobots go on dates? Did they get married? Did they enjoy each other on a physical level? She had no idea. Here she was sizing up different males when she had no clue what to do with them. How pathetic was that?

"Okay Crys, you have to spill," Jazz ordered, forcing her from her thoughts. "Whatever you're thinking about, your expressions have been jumping all over the place. I have to know what's going on in that processor of yours."

Crystal wasn't aware she had been making faces, but she didn't much have a mind to be embarrassed by them. Jazz gave her a moment to gather her thoughts before she spoke to him.

"Okay so, say you have a female Autobot, er femme, as you call them. And you want to be intimate with her, what do you do?"

The only sound in the room was the snap of Prowl's data pad as he suddenly broke it in half. Apparently he had been listening after all.

********************************

Ratchet had to lean on the table for support. He was laughing so hard he had lost his strength to stand.

"Come on, man! It's not that funny!" Jazz insisted, hands on his hips. If anyone liked a good joke, it was Jazz. But not necessarily at his own expense. He didn't much care for the fact that Ratchet was partly laughing at him.

Prowl stood next to him and was not looking happy at all. Far more than Jazz, Prowl absolutely hated to be laughed at. It did not happen very often.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Ratchet tried to get his vocal processor under control. "That is just the most amusing thing I have heard in vorns."

"It's not our fault she pops the million dollar question out of nowhere," Jazz shot back. "I want to know who put that idea in her head."

"I can't believe you two, out of all the Autobots, tried to explain it to her," Ratchet let out a fresh peel of laughter. "Oh Primus, I would have paid money to see that."

"Your discretion is appreciated," Prowl said dryly.

Ratchet may not have even known the whole situation happened if it had not gone as badly as it did. Jazz and Prowl had always worked seamlessly as a team, but they did not fare well teaming up on this. Both had ideas on what was and what was not appropriate to share and it all came out as a garbled, confusing mess.

It only got worse when Crystal asked them about certain parts of male Autobot anatomy with horrifying bluntness.

"Oh come on," she had said, thoroughly enjoying their discomfort. "Just give me a hint." She picked up Prowl's stylus. "Does it look like this?" She pointed to a long canister in the corner. "Or is it big like that?"

That was about the point both seconds fled from the office and ran down to the med bay for backup. Unfortunately, Crystal followed them, determined to get some sort of answer even if it may not have been a truthful one.

Ratchet had looked up when all three came in and was confused when Crystal picked up a drill.

"Does it move like this would?" she asked, optics wide and all grins. She was obviously having the time of her life terrorizing the two Autobot seconds. "Maybe it's more this size?" she picked up a small screwdriver.

It was the first time Ratchet ever had to chase Crystal from his med bay. It was the only way he could get the full story out of the two embarrassed Autobots.

When they had finished telling him what happened, Ratchet was bent over his examination table, laughing too hard to be able to stand.

"Well what did you want us to do?" Jazz demanded. "Whip out the equipment and show her how it all works?" He suddenly had the horrible realization that there were some Autobots on the Ark that just might do that if she asked.

Ratchet was still grinning wide at their serious expressions. "I'm quite sure she did it because she got such a great reaction from the both of you. If you two hadn't run in fear like you were newly out of the spark chamber instead of the experienced mechs you are, she wouldn't have chased you. I believe the Earth phrase is 'she smelled the blood in the water.'"

Jazz continued to frown at Ratchet’s extremely amused face. “Yeah well, next time she wants to know about it, you’re telling her.”

**************************

_Baby, baby, since first we met_

_I knew in this heard of mine_

_(I wanna tell ya, doot-doot)_

_The love we had could not be bad_

_I play it right and bide my time._

Crystal was in a good mood for no reason, and perhaps several reasons. She wasn't sure why, but her spirits were higher than she remembered them being in a long time. Perhaps it was partly to do with the horrified looks Prowl and Jazz gave her that still made her grin. Or maybe it was even due to her interesting talk with Sunstreaker the night before. Either way, Crystal felt like having a good time. And so she was.

She brought her trusty homemade radio with her as she cleaned out one of the several wide storage rooms on the Ark. It was always more fun to work to great music.

_Spent a lifetime looking for somebody_

_To give me love like you._

_Now you told me that you wanna leave me_

Crystal swayed her hips to the music and couldn’t help but belt out the last line.

“Darlin’ I just can’t let you!”

She jumped up and did a full spin before forgetting the cleaning entirely and dancing to the music, wet rag still in hand. She happily belted out the words, not caring who heard.

_Baby, now that I've found you_

_I can't let you go_

_I'll build my world around you_

_I need you so_

_Baby, even though you don't need me_

_You don't need me._

She whipped around the room, splashing cleaner here and there and singing as loud as she pleased. Several Autobots probably heard her enjoying herself, but only one stopped by to smirk as he leaned against the door frame.

"My, my. So it looks like I'm not the only one who can get caught dancing around by themselves," Tracks said, looking proud of himself for his find.

Crystal turned and saw him, but did not alter her activities.

"Yes, but I don't care of someone sees me." She flicked her wet rag at him and Tracks instantly jumped out of the way, his pitch rising.

"Hey! Don't get that on my paint!"

"You're no fun at all, you know that?" Crystal said, even though she was still smiling. Not even Tracks could ruin her day.

She turned to get back to her cleaning and dancing when a hand grabbed her and she was suddenly yanked against Tracks' smooth blue chest.

"You only think that because you sabotage every conversation I try to have with you."

"I most certainly do not!" Crystal protested as Tracks took her hand in his. "You're just too full of yourself to see past your own shiny ass."

Tracks began to sway to the music and then stepped forward, causing Crystal to step back in sync. "You think it's shiny, huh? Have you been looking?"

"I'm sure you look at it far more than I do," Crystal smiled back, moving as he did. They stepped forward and back to the beat. "But I see your private dancing sessions have paid off. You're not too bad. So why do you keep it all to yourself?"

Tracks let her spin out and then back in. "Honey, I'll have you know I'm a fabulous dancer. Just not everyone here appreciates the talent."

"And why do you care what others think of you?

"I don't."

"Uh huh."

"I don't!"

"So if any Autobot looked in right now it wouldn't bother you at all."

At that thought, Tracks looked over at the door and then moved away from her. Crystal gave him a knowing look.

"Look, some of us have more to prove than others, alright?" Tracks defended. "Yes, I'm gorgeous, yes I can dance. I'm also far more educated than most of the Autobots in this base. But that doesn't matter here. All that matters is that I can listen to orders and shoot. And because I'm not some hardened military machine, not a lot is expected of me from bots who are a lot lower down the social ladder than I am."

"So?"

"So, I don't like it when bots don't expect anything of me. They should expect greatness. It's what I strive for."

Crystal turned away from him and went back to cleaning.

"Maybe if you didn't think you were so much better than everyone else just because you came from a higher background the others would take you more seriously. There's nothing wrong with being able to take orders and shoot. It's probably what's kept you alive this long."

There was a moment of silence as Tracks had the grace to consider her words.

"There's also nothing wrong with being yourself and doing what you love without compromising your responsibilities. I mean, look at Sideswipe. He does whatever pops into his head and no one hesitates to trust him on the battlefield. At least," she added as an after thought. "That's what I gather from the others."

"Be more like Sideswipe," Tracks mused. "Primus forbid."

"At the moment, it seems to be better than being more like you," she shot back.

Tracks got closer and leaned over her as she tried to work. "You know, this is exactly what I mentioned before. You're doing this on purpose and I'm trying to be cordial to you."

Crystal threw her rag in a bucket and put her hands on her hips to face him. "Fine, what can I help you with? I'm sure you hunted me down with a reason. Let's have it."

"Well for starters, I want to talk to you without you throwing it back in my face."

"I see." Crystal then looked past him to the door. "And what do YOU want?"

Tracks turned around to see Smokescreen, looking amused.

"I didn't know you were entertaining," said the blue Datsun. "I can come back later."

"No," Crystal insisted. "What do you want? You’ve been skulking around for a few days. So what is it?"

Tracks and Smokescreen exchanged dubious looks with each other, neither knew the other too well and didn't think the other should be there. Crystal was even less thrilled. Her two least favorite Autobots in the same room with her. How quickly the day had gone downhill.

"Well," Smokescreen began. "I heard about your...extra talents from a few nights ago. I was wondering if you would be interested in trying it out at our usual spot to get a few more answers from our friend."

Tracks had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded sketchy to him.

Crystal was silent.

"The idea is intriguing, no?" Smokescreen pressed. "I can tell you're curious to try it."

"Maybe," she admitted. "We'll talk about this tonight, okay?"

That answer seemed to wholly satisfy Smokescreen. "I'll keep you to your word."

"I'm sure you will," Crystal mumbled as he left. Then she turned to Tracks. “Now for you. What do you want?”

"For starters, I wish for you to go on a drive—er, I suppose a walk with me."

"And then?"

"And then we'll be walking together and there won't be any Smokescreens to interrupt while I talk to you." Tracks was getting a little ruffled by the end.

“I see.” So she would have to wait to find out what his ultimate motive was. “Fine, let’s do this and get it over with.”

**********************

It was April now. The snow had melted under the heavy rain that came with Oregon. But there were sunny days as well. For the last few days there had been nothing but sun and the ground was mostly dry. Several Autobots had taken advantage of the good weather and were milling around outside. Though at the moment, anyone caught doing nothing outside was made to help unload all the new supplies Cosmos just brought in. It was a fragile shipment with most of it composed of ammunition.

Tracks and Crystal walked out amidst it all, a strange pair to be seen together indeed. Tracks was happy to move past and get away from everyone, but Crystal stopped when she saw who was surveying the shipment.

Jazz had on one of his rare business faces as he ticked off everything on his roster as it was unloaded.

"Hey Jazz."

He looked up when he heard Crystal's unmistakably feminine voice call his name.

"Is it this long?" she asked with a huge grin, holding her hands about an Autobot's foot length apart.

Strangely enough, Tracks immediately understood to what she was referring as soon as he saw Jazz's reaction.

"Actually," Tracks said as he came up behind her and took her wrists. "The way Jazz talks about it, it's more like this." He moved her hands quite a bit further apart.

Crystal's optics grew, as did her grin. "He talks about it?"

"But usually those who have that much to say, are only about like this." Tracks moved her fingers in until they were only about an inch apart.

Crystal made an amused squeal. She was finding the whole thing hilarious.

"You guys!" Jazz squawked. "I'm trying to work here! Go pester someone else! Primus!"

Crystal let out a peel of laughter as she ran off. Tracks was behind her, very much amused himself. They didn't stop running until they were out of the frustrated second's view.

"Wow, you really know which buttons to push with Jazz," Tracks commented when they started walking. "I don't think I've ever seen him that flustered."

"I love giving him the business," Crystal grinned. "It's so much fun to tease him. And he knows I do it because I care."

"I am suddenly even more grateful I am not one of the objects of your affection," Tracks quipped.

"Hur, hur. You would be so lucky if you were. My affections are awesome."

"I'll keep that in mind."

They were now taking a bee line away from the Ark, heading for a more barren area with large boulders and few trees. Up ahead, the path dipped into a ravine from a long dried out river with walls made out of mud and clay that rose on either side.

"So I understand that you've been preoccupied with getting yourself a new design and an alt mode," Tracks took the opportunity to change the subject. "Did you ever consider getting a mode with wings like mine?"

Crystal gave him a doubtful grin. "You want me to look like you?"

"Hardly," came the droll response. "I'm merely suggesting that you have a myriad of possibilities open to you at this point. No sense limiting your options by not thinking outside the box."

"I suppose not. But having flight...nobody else does. I'd still be in a world of my own. I wouldn't be the same as the others and I want to be with them."

None of the Autobots knew how badly she wanted to know what it felt like to drive at full speed beside them in a phalanx of revving engines and spinning wheels. She day dreamed about it sometimes.

"We do have Autobots that fly," Tracks rationalized. "There's also triple changers who have both a ground mode and a flight mode. Then, there's myself. I have a ground mode with modified flight capability. I have not met an Autobot with modifications like mine."

"Ah, so you like being different then."

"I'm a unique specimen, to be sure."

Crystal laughed. "Boy, I would say so."

"The same could, and has been, said about yourself, you know."

Crystal glanced back behind them. The volcano and the base were getting further and further away. Giant robots sure could walk faster than humans could.

"Well there's a difference between being unique and just plain being something else entirely. At least with my new body, whatever mode it gets, I'll look like I belong. I suppose it's good enough."

"I do agree a different body will be a wise step forward," Tracks said as he watched the sky. "Though Sunstreaker seems to like you the way you are."

"Ah ha!" Crystal announced. "So here we go! You wanted to talk to me because of Sunstreaker."

"He is my best friend after all," Tracks shrugged.

"You're Sunstreaker's best friend?" Crystal didn't look like she believed him.

"Well he is mine. I don't know about myself being his. I don't need many friends. I'm a quality, not quantity type of mech."

"So you felt you needed to talk to me because..."

"Because quite frankly my dear, he likes you. And even though I don't, I'm not interested in a joint custody. I don’t want to have to wait until you’re not around to see him."

Crystal gave him a look that bordered on admiration. "Wow Tracks, that's actually quite gallant of you to do that for a friend. I'm surprised."

Tracks smirked. "Why? Because I'm such a narcissistic bastard?"

Crystal raised her hands in innocence. "Not my words. I didn't say that."

"Yes, you prefer calling those you don't like an ass, I believe."

"That's now Smokescreen's name. He beat you out of that title I'm afraid."

Tracks managed a half smile. "I'll have to thank him for that." He paused. "Whatever did he want with you anyway? It sounded a bit shady."

"With Smokescreen, everything is a big shady. I’m prepared.”

Their walk took them further into the ravine. The walls began to rise on either side and large, sharp rocks jutted out from everywhere. In hind sight, the enclosed space may not have been the best place to go, but neither was thinking about it at the moment.

Not until the ground began to vibrate.

"What is that?" Crystal wondered. She could feel a forceful, rhythmic pounding in her feet.

Tracks was on full alert. Even if it were a natural event, whenever the ground quaked there was only one thing he thought of. His scanners activated, searching for Decepticon signatures. But his sensors couldn’t pick up a thing. Not just Decepticon signatures, but anything at all. All his instruments were dead.

Soundwave was here. That meant Tracks was unable to radio the rest of the Autobots to inform them of his presence.

"Stay next to me," Tracks said in a low voice as he retrieved his blaster.

"Why?" she demanded. "What's going on?"

Tracks scanned the area frantically, optics combing every which way, looking for some sign of how badly he was outnumbered. Crystal was glancing around wildly as well. She had no idea what was going on or what to expect. She felt helpless and confused and she did not like that feeling at all.

There was a crackle in the air as if the very atmosphere in front of them was splitting in half. In a blink there was suddenly a Decepticon standing in front of them; black and purple and a hateful sneer on his face plate.

Startled, Tracks raised his blaster to shoot, but the Decepticon was too fast. He shot first and Tracks stumbled back, his chest smoking. Crystal was quick to grab him before he fell.

"Tracks, are you okay? Can you radio the Autobots?"

He winced as he put a hand to his burning chest. The blast had gone through the armor. He was already getting internal damage reports from his systems.

"I can't. Soundwave's got to be here somewhere. He's killed all my communication abilities."

"No one can hear you from here, Autobots," Skywarp sneered as he advanced.

Tracks fired several shots in his direction, but Skywarp disappeared before any damage could be done.

"Crystal," Tracks said in a low voice. "I want you to run back to the base as fast as you can. I'm going to cover you, okay?"

Her optics widened. He was asking her to leave him behind, possibly to die. She had seen this scenario countless times in the movies. She never thought it was something that would actually happen. Oh she had been so wrong. Usually whoever was asked to run responded with the usual "No! I won't leave you here!". But Crystal seriously considered bolting. She wasn't exactly a slow runner and if it brought backup for Tracks, it sounded like a fantastic idea.

Before she could decide anything, however, another Decepticon seemed to grow right up from the ground. He was just as big as the other one; dark blue and bulky, and completely blocking the only exit route toward safety.

"Escape improbable," he told her in a mechanical sing-song voice. It was so devoid of anything that sounded alive the sound itself scared her.

Tracks instantly went to plan B and transformed.

"Crys! Get on!"

She threw her body onto the top of the corvette without even thinking and he peeled out, raising a heavy cloud of dust as he did so. Tracks swerved wildly this way and that, trying to get proper traction in the lose sand. Crystal held on for dear life. A speeding car wasn't exactly an easy thing to cling to.

Not that they got very far. Tracks tried to initiate his flight mode when something heavy dropped from the top of the ravine and collided with the both of them. It was only a car, but it hit like a train. Crystal, who had been almost falling off to begin with, she was air born at the collision. She flew sideways into a tree, splintering it before hitting the wall of the gorge, causing part of the dirt and rocks to crumble all over her.

Tracks was in far worse shape. It was Wildrider who had collided with him. The Stunticon's personal force field shielded him from any damage while Track's entire side was bent in the shape of the Ferrari's nose. He managed to force a painful transformation into root mode from his mangled body just as Wildrider charged him on foot, fists flying.

The injured Autobot pulled out his weapon, only to have it slapped out of his hand before Wildrider's fist connected with his face. The discarded blaster slid in the dirt and Crystal scrambled over to it before anyone else could reach it. She fired at Wildrider, hoping to hit him somewhere that would do some damage. She really had no idea where to hit Decepticons. She had also never used a Cybertronian weapons before. Unfortunately, getting hit in the shoulder didn't deter Wildrider's attack any.

Tracks' struggling under the onslaught was becoming weaker. She fired a few more shots which made the Decepticon even angrier. It stopped Wildrider long enough to make him try to decide which one he wanted to attack.

There were other Decepticons in the ravine now. The black and purple plane, the dark blue blocky one, and more cars were coming in. Crystal didn't know what else to do. She turned the opposite way and fired. Any Decepticons in the way hurried to move.

She fired several shots in frantic succession, all toward the Ark. She had no idea how far a basic blaster could shoot, but she was praying something would go far enough that someone over there would pick it up. Red Alert was on shift. If anyone would notice it, he would.

The Decepticons were startled by her actions for only a moment before they began to close in again. Crystal turned and ran back over to where Wildrider was still pummeling his victim. He stopped when he saw her, almost amused and happy to be shot at just to see what she would do. However, Crystal didn't fire. She may not have had any experience in shooting the Autobot's weapons, but thanks to Wheeljack, she had learned a few other nifty tricks of what they could do.

As she ran, Crystal pulled out the energy stabilizer cord of the blaster, set its power to high and then plugged the output. The blaster was already heating up at an alarming rate when she deftly shoved it under Wildrider's shoulder gear and ducked out of the way. Less than a second later, there was a small, but powerful explosion and the Stunticon found himself laying several feet away on the ground and missing his arm.

Crystal didn't even bother to look. Her whole attention was on what remained of Tracks. Most of his chest armor had been ripped off and a great deal of internal systems were exposed and damaged. The largest of his fuel tubes had been yanked out and bright pink liquid spilled freely into the dirt. Crystal had learned that a spark was in danger of going out from the mere shock of the body losing too much energy too fast.

"Oh no," she breathed. "No, no, no, no..."

His optics were already fading and the body was motionless. She fished the energy tube out of the energon soaked mud and haphazardly shoved it back in. That was all she was able to do before something big and heavy effortlessly yanked her right off her feet.

***********************************

Jazz looked up from his supply roster and answered the emergency signal on his radio.

"Jazz here. What's cookin' Red?"

Red Alert's voice had barely contained urgency. "There were some shots fired in sector 12. I have not received any notice of target practice that may be going on in that area. When I attempted to get more readings, I ran into a dampening field."

"Roger that," Jazz responded, not matching his urgency. "I'll send out a scouting party right now." He looked around to see who he could find. There was nothing but piles of supplies scattered about waiting to be put away. He climbed up on a crate so he could clearly survey who was around and who didn't have anything in their arms at the moment.

"Hound, I need you to lead a scouting party to check out the ravine real quick. Red said there's some funny readings going on down there. Take uh...Bumblebee, Wheeljack and Bluestreak with you."

Brawn put down the crate he had in his hands. "Didn't I see Tracks and Crystal head down that way after you yelled at them?"

Jazz threw his data pad to the ground and transformed into car mode before his tires hit the dirt. His engine squealed as he raced towards the gorge There were more than just the designated scouts following after.

The second could feel a horrible pounding inside him and it wasn't just the fuel pump of his engine. Something felt wrong and urgent and he couldn't will his body to go fast enough. The ground was uneven and full of rocks and plant life. The terrain tore up his undercarriage and clogged his grill but he didn't care. The only thing he wanted was to know that it was a false alarm and everyone was alright.

Unfortunately, that was not the case. As he drove into the ravine, Jazz could see a cloud of dust far ahead. He closed up on it and could make out the retreating forms of the Stunticons. This was not good. Whatever the Stunticons left behind would not be in great shape. That was their style.

Jazz pushed harder. His engine screamed in protest, he almost lost control once or twice from hitting so many rocks, but he refused to slow down. He raced past the marks in the dirt that looked like a struggle and almost missed the mangled body that had been left behind. When he saw Tracks’ form, Jazz spun around, transforming into robot mode to slide to a stop.

Several other Autobots were right on his tail and grouped around their wounded comrade. The lifeless form of Tracks was mangled, torn open, and sinking in a pool of mud and his own energon.

Wheeljack pushed himself through the crowd and landed on his knees, instantly assessing the damage.

“Ratchet,” he hailed on his radio. “I need you out here. Tracks is critical. He’s lost a lot of fluids. I don’t dare move him without help.”

“Jazz,” Hound called almost at the same time, motioning him over. “Crystal was here, too. Her tracks are all over the place. Can’t mistake those for anyone else’s.”

“Alright Autobots!” Jazz bellowed to everyone. “Fan out! Search everywhere! She can’t be too far away. Scan every inch!”

Autobots quickly got to work. Hound delegated the most likely places to look first by the tracks he found. Others began to fan wider and secure the area in case any Decepticons were still about.

It was only about two minutes later when the second wave of Autobots arrived, including Optimus Prime, Ratchet and Prowl. The search spread wider when very little was found. There was evidence of an explosion, but none of the charred pieces found belonged to either Tracks or Crystal. So they continued searching.

Minutes ticked by like hours. The fear of finding a mangled body was quickly turning into the fear of not finding one at all. Even Optimus was searching while Prowl systematically squared out each quadrant of the area to make sure no space was missed.

A seething Sunstreaker stormed up to him, almost slapping his data pad from his hands.

“Damnit Prowl, where’s Optimus? We need to go after those slagging Decepticons now! They’ve got her!”

“We don’t know that for sure, yet,” replied Prowl in a tone that made Sunstreaker’s energon boil even more. “We need to keep looking.”

“I’m not fragging looking for anything! She’s not here! We need to go after them before the Decepticons do something to her! Get your head out of your ass, Prowl!”

The second in command leveled a look at him. “Before we go anywhere, _you_ are going to make 100% sure we are not leaving her somewhere in this ravine to die while we fight Decepticons. Do you understand me?”

“Me?” Sunstreaker demanded.

“Yes,” Prowl confirmed. “You can decide when we give up the search. I’ll make it your responsibility.”

Sunstreaker scowled even as he backed up a few steps, fear of the heavy responsibility hitting him full force. “You son of a–” He couldn’t even finish his curse before panic to finish the job overtook him and he ran to continue the search.

“Interesting way to win an argument,” came Optimus Prime’s voice as he walked up behind him. “But you are delaying a truth we are all trying not to face.”

Prowl let out a shaky sigh through his vents that made even his door panels shudder.

“I know.” His voice wavered slightly from its usual calm. “She’s not here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for coming along on this journey with me. I really enjoyed getting inside the heads of all these different amazing Autobots and getting to know them a little better.
> 
> The next story is called "The Secret Lives of Decepticons" and I'll try not to make you wait too long to see what's going to happen next. I hope to see you all there!


End file.
